


Most Intimately

by CaptainTarthister



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-04-16 15:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14168214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: After an embarrassing consequence of hot sex with a total stranger, Brienne not only encounters Jaime again but he's the only one with the skills to, ahem, give her a hand.





	1. One

Margaery had put a spell on her.

Or spiked her drink.

Those were the only reasons why she was in a cab with a total stranger, willingly going to his place and, much as she hated to admit it, _very happy_ to keep his hand between her legs.

Brienne panted loudly against his mouth as he nibbled on her lips, his palm on her pussy making her panties grow damp and warmer by the second. Had she been in complete possession of her brain, she would never be with this man. He wouldn’t even look at someone like her but the that’s why clubs are never brightly-lit. They made drunks awkwardly gyrating on the dance floor graceful, sexy. You looked attractive. Hell, you even felt like a goddess.

“We’re here,” came the bored, tired voice of the driver.

The man’s grunt filled her mouth before pulling away from her, his hand lingering on her thigh before reaching inside his coat pocket for money. She sighed, fingers brushing through her hair then pulling her skirt back down to her thighs.

“Keep the change,” came the order before his hand closed around hers to pull her out of the backseat with him.

Brienne blinked up at the imposing, elegant high-rise before her, knowing despite her alcohol-muddled mind that she was in a posh address in the city. Her admiration of the building was cut off when she was once again caught in a kiss so hot it would have incinerated everything else around them. Holy seven hells. He was a really good kisser. Just the right balance of devouring her lips and exploring her mouth. She crushed the fine fabric of his tailored jacket as his scent swept over her. He smelled fucking good too. Like fresh from a shower with a splash of sexy, sexy male.

“I’ve never been this hard in my life,” he growled against her lips as he backed her. Finding there was nothing to lean on, she yelped, clutching him tightly. He laughed and pulled away from her, although his hands remained under her dress and cupping her ass.

She looked at him, once again bowled over with how beautiful he was. This was one man for whom darkness would be fucking criminal. Who the hell was this handsome? Streetlamps were harsh and washed you out. Was he fucking photoshopped from birth? His golden hair not only looked like straight form a men’s shampoo commercial—it was also silky and thick. His emerald eyes have got to be contacts. And that jaw. Even the stubble. She wanted to give him a shake, just to see if some of his unreal good looks would be knocked off.

He smiled at her scrutiny and she wanted to put a fist on those dimples. And also lick them.

“Oh,” she said when she moved and brushed against the hard, undeniable evidence of his claim. She blushed. “Well, uh, we have to do something about that.”

“Come on, then.” Again, he took her hand and pulled her towards the building.

She turned away, making an awkward pretense of being cool and uncaring when the doorman doffed his cap at them and greeted her man. No, fuck buddy, she thought, grateful once they were deep in the lobby. The bright lights almost had her digging in her heels and changing her mind, but he smiled at her again over his shoulder.

_He must be a lot more drunk than me._

“Now, we’re going to be in a very tight space and it would be very tempting to kiss and touch you again,” he said as he pressed the up button of the elevator. “Not to say I will not be able to control myself but I’m gonna fucking try.”

She had to smile. So, he knew what she looked like and was still very much willing to fuck her. _The gods bless drunks._ And she really needed to be fucked tonight.

He didn’t kiss her once they were in the elevator, but rather surprisingly, offered his arm. She looped her hand around it. In her heels, she could see the top of his head. She was tall to begin with, maybe even taller than him in her bare feet.

The doors parted, and they walked out together. There were only a few doors and he led her towards one at the very end of the hallway. He almost looked apologetic as he took the key out of his pocket to unlock it. He pushed the door open and put a hand at the small of her back.

“Ladies first,” he said with another smile.

Well, who would have thought. He was a gentleman. She certainly didn’t think that when he had his hand under her skirt earlier. Not that she was doing any thinking during that time. Or even now.

The lights clicked on, revealing a spacious pad that was undeniably a bachelor’s but without tacky animal prints and leather furniture on every surface area. Instead the rug was worn, genuinely worn but woven in an unfamiliar style so she guessed it had foreign origins. The sofa was a soft, pale gray with navy pillows. The only piece of leather furniture she saw were the black, tufted end tables. On the walls were black-and-white photographs of beaches and lighthouses.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked, slipping an arm around her waist from behind. He rubbed his lips up and down her long neck.

“Erm, water?”

“Water it is,” he remarked, showing some surprise. He was probably expecting a cocktail. Well, if she was going to enjoy fucking him, she needed a clear head. And a mouth that didn’t taste icky from bourbon. “Make yourself at home.”

As she listened to him putter around in the kitchen, she took off her shoes, letting out a soft groan. She was sitting on the couch, kneading her ankle and calf muscles when he returned with glasses. Embarrassed, she quickly sat up, mumbling thanks as she took the water from him. He sat down beside her.

He drank water too, and waited until she finished hers before putting their glasses away and kissing her. She was glad. And surprised when he pulled her over his lap as if she weighed nothing at all. As their mouths clashes, their hands got busy. She pushed at his jacket. He pulled the straps of her dress down her arms. He shrugged off his jacket with a grunt. She laughed when he tore at the neckline of her dress, stilling his hand and placing it on top of a zipper.

“You know,” he murmured as he licked her neck and her dress finally parted to pool at her waist. His hands were quick to palm her tits and she gasped. “This would be better in bed.”

“Hmm. I think so too. But can I go to the bathroom first?” She asked, sliding off his lap. She pulled her dress up again and this gesture of modesty pulled a pleased smile from him.

“Straight ahead, second door on the left. It’s through the bedroom. Don’t take too long,” he drawled.

In the bathroom, she pulled her dress up again but did not zip it. She wanted sex but was not bold enough to return to him naked. Taking out a tube from her purse, she squeezed a small dollop and lowered her hand to her pussy. In the mirror, she saw herself wince a little and grunt as she applied it inside. Then she washed her hands, and, her cheeks flaring pink, decided to ditch her panties then and there.

She followed the trail of his clothes on the floor, blushing some more and giddy about what was going to happen. Reaching the bed, she found him sitting up against the pillows, muscular arms stacked behind his head. The light from the bedside lamps were soft, casting him in more shadows than light. Her eyes brightened at the hair covering his chest, at the tight six-pack of his abs. As she stepped toward him, her foot landed on something soft.

He grinned when she picked it up, her finger hooked around the waistband of his black boxer briefs as she twirled it.

“Should I take this as a kind of challenge?” She asked, letting it dangle from her finger before tossing it to the foot of the bed.

“Just thought to be prepared for the inevitable,” he replied. His eyes raked her body still covered in her loosened dress. “Care to catch up?”

Alright. She was doing this. She never did anything halfway. She was in a stranger’s apartment, he was naked, and her panties were on his bathroom floor. Eyes momentarily casting to the ceiling in prayer, she pulled at the straps and let the dress slither down.

She looked at him then, waiting tensely as his eyes went up and down her face, her body. With her small tits, straight waist and broad, flat hips, her body was packed with strength and muscles instead of curves. When she wasn’t on her knees fixing another internet connection problem at the office, she worked out at the gym.

Would he be disgusted? Her bravado, rarely experienced, was now ready to flee as he continued looking at her. It won’t be the first time a man had shown disappointment in her tits, mistaking a wide chest for at least B-cup boobs. Would he ask if she was really a woman? It had happened to her. _Twice._

“You’re strong,” he said, startling her. “Come here.”

She tripped on her dress, sending her right into bed and straight into his arms. He grunted at the impact. She stammered an apology, but his mouth was upon her lips again. Sighing in relief and want, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him push her down on the bed.

He was a hungry kisser and seemed to have more than two hands. Cupping her cheeks as he sank his tongue in her mouth. Knees nudging her legs apart as he bent to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He tucked his arms under her back as he mouthed her tits, growls lacing his wet, loud kisses. Never had a man been, well, this pleased with her tits, let alone with her body. She familiarized herself with his bunched muscles, fingertips tracing the hard veins running down his arms, palms pressing on his firm back. He drew hard on her nipples, making them swell, making her cry out for the Seven.

“Jaime,” he groaned, freeing a nipple to speak before sucking it hard again. She arched against him with a wail.

_“What?”_

“Jaime. My name’s Jaime.” Then he kissed down her stomach, teeth grazing on her flat abs while his hands swept her thighs far apart. Oh, gods. He was licking her! Toward---

He pressed his nose against her pussy and sniffed. “Fuck. You smell good. What’s your name again?”

She glared at him, outraged. What kind of idiot would ask her such a difficult question after messing with her head with his heavenly kisses?

“Damn. And you’re wet.” He continued to say, thumbing her labia open. He smiled at her pussy then directed it at her. “Your name, sweetheart.”

“Um. Uh. . .” She had a name. She just couldn’t remember it now. “Um . ..Brie.”

Part of it, anyway. “My friends call me Brie,” she gasped as his tongue slipped between the folds of her pussy. “Oh, gods.”

“Jaime, my-friends-call-me-Brie.” He muttered before slurping from her pussy loudly.

She must have called him because he didn’t correct her again. She said many things, screamed a lot of them, actually, as he tongued up and down her slit, circled her clit before wrapping his lips around it. As she shrieked, his fingers swept her labia wide open and he pushed his tongue deep inside her pussy. The word went dark.

_“Jaime!”_

Seven hells, she knew one-night stands could be crazy but no one told her it could also involve being eaten out! As she screamed through her release, Jaime’s tongue got more relentless, fucking her, swirling around her and inside her pussy, fucking her again, sucking her clit, fucking her without missing a beat as her come squirted out of her and right into his mouth. She covered her face in mortification. That had never happened before! But her embarrassment was quickly discarded as Jaime climbed over her, taking her head roughly in both hands and pushing his tongue in her mouth.

She tasted herself, blushed, then licked him back before sucking hungrily at his tongue as he tucked his hands under her legs. He ordered her to keep kissing him, to never stop touching him as he fumbled in the drawer for condoms. He hissed as she bit at his shoulder, slammed his hips down on hers when she accidentally teased him with her fingers fluttering around his nipple. He practically yelled at her for not helping him with the condom and she burst out laughing, taking his face in her palms this time and devouring his mouth, as he did with her. He shuddered and chuckled against her lips, before suddenly grabbing her wrists and pinning them by her ears.

“I’m getting you for that, Brie,” he growled with sexy menace, his emerald eyes twinkling.

“Do it,” she retorted brazenly.

He didn’t ease himself into her. Her pussy was soaked and slippery, but gods, he was fucking huge. Her feet flat and firm on the bed, she thrust back at him, enjoying his startled expression before it softened into pleasure. He threw his head back, hands still gripping her wrists as he fucked her with breathtaking fury. This was not sex. This was fucking. Mindless, rough, desperate and _fucking hot._ Making love was for the saps hung up on romantic movies. That wasn’t the way to live at all. Fucking. You haven’t lived until you’ve been fucked like _this_. 

Their pubic hairs tangled, burned, he drank her cries, she sucked on his lip, managed to free one wrist to scratch at his back, his shoulder. He grabbed it again, imprisoning it his hand and flattening his entire body on her as he lunged hard and deep, his cock digging deep and sure in her pussy.

“Look at me,” he whispered as pumped quick, hip-breaking thrusts into her. She did, panting hotly against his mouth. He licked her lips. “I tasted you come. Now I wanna watch.”

_Oh, gods. How come no one told her one-night stands could be this hot?_

 

*****

Margaery was yawning as she followed Brienne into the hospital. Brienne glared at her from over her shoulder. “Will you hurry up? I really need to get this off me!”

“Seriously, Brie. Have some of this,” Margaery said, shoving a paper cup of fragrant, wonderful coffee under her nose. “It’s going to be alright.”

“No, I can’t have that, it’s a diuretic! I can’t pee while the doctor is taking it out of me,” Brienne grumbled as she yanked her friend behind her towards the elevator. She pressed the button aggressively.

She had no idea how she made it home last night—or this morning. But she woke up in her bed, still wearing her dress. This was not very unusual, although she expected to look better after that mind-blowing fuck session. Instead, the mirror had shown her pale, straw-blond hair sticking up and out as if she’d shoved a fork in the electrical socket. Her mouth was swollen to twice its original size and very red. On her neck were small, purple marks of passionate kisses. Still, she felt a lot better than she looked. 

It would have been another boring Sunday consisting of picking up her laundry and having brunch with Margaery. Instead, she discovered a pressing problem. A pressing problem from deep inside her.

“How big was the guy you fucked last night?” Margaery asked, grinning. “He must be a fucking stallion for your diaphragm to be stuck.”

There was no way to fight off the bright, tomato blush that overtook her entire face. He wasn’t just big. His cock was an absolute monster. _And made me come again and again._ She rubbed her hip, hoping to ease some of the stiffness. Her legs were still weak. 

“Could we not talk about this here?”

“It’s just you and me, Brie.”

“Gods, this is so embarrassing.” Brienne groaned as the elevator dinged at their destination. The doors parted and this time, it was Margaery who had to pull her out.

“I’m sure it happens more often than you think.” Margaery assured her, giving her a slight pull to kiss her on the cheek.

“Look, there’s a difference between seeing my doctor for my diaphragm and her knowing that I have sex.”

“Uh, doesn’t the fact that she knows you have a diaphragm means she knows you fuck?”

“Yeah, but this is different!”

Margaery pushed open the door. “I don’t see how. Stop worrying about it. Relax, okay?”

“Oh, gods, Marge.” Brienne whispered, pulling her from the door.

“What?”

“What if I’ll need surgery to get it out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” although Margaery didn’t look too sure either. “Come on. It’s impossible to have it stuck up there. . .well, way up there.”

“How will the doctor get it out?” Panicking now, Brienne started breathing shallowly. Sweat spread down her back, across her forehead. “I mean, Marge. She will have to operate me down there!”

“Okay, Brienne. Calm down. Honey, look at me. Look at me.” Speaking in low tones, Margaery rubbed her hands up and down Brienne’s shoulders. Her light brown eyes were filled with concern but here was a resoluteness in them too. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just get inside the office, have your doctor called, okay?”

“Shit. The one time I have a one-night stand.”

“Well, most people would rather forget them. Yours is---” At Brienen’s scowl, Margaery cleared her throat. “Alright. I know. I’m sorry. It’s too soon for jokes. But Brienne, just focus on the good, alright? You were fucked so fucking well. And the guy, whoever he is, had one fucking phenomenon of a cock. And you said he’s nice. Seriously, no one gets as lucky.”

“Seriously? You think having my diaphragm stuck is lucky?” She hissed.

“Well, maybe now’s the time to re-think your contraceptive method. Come on. It’s going to be alright. You will not need surgery. I promise.”

They entered the clinic and approached the receptionist’s desk. She was a brunette with big eyes and strong features. She was not pretty but rather striking. “Right. We’re expecting you, Ms. Tarth,” she said briskly. “But Dr. Stark had another emergency, so another doctor will be taking care of you.”

“Great,” Brienne said with a sigh.

“Well, think of it this way, Brienne. At least your doctor won’t think you’re a slut. And you know better than to give a rat’s ass about some stranger’s opinion,” Margaery told her.

The receptionist frowned at Margaery. “We don’t tolerate name-calling of any kind here, miss.”

“Oh, no. That wasn’t what I was doing at all. See, my friend’s worried that her doctor will judge her for having her diaphragm—”

“Margaery!” Brienne exclaimed.

“Miss, perhaps you should just wait for your friend. Miss Tarth, come on. I’ll walk you to the examination room.”

She was led to a door marked  Exam Room Two. She pointed at the gown Brienne was to change into and that the doctor will be with her shortly. “Thanks so much,” Brienne told her gratefully. “Um, I didn’t get your name?”

“It’s Osha, miss. And don’t worry about what the doctor will think. This happens all the time. When you’re done changing, just get on the chair, okay?”

After she left, Brienne went behind the screen. She removed her t-shirt and jeans, stashed her panties in her bag. Her nipples tightened. Instead of a warm tongue lashing at the peaks, it was the cool air from the vents causing them to pucker. She hurried into the shapeless gown and stepped out.

Brienne hopped on the seat, stared at the stirrups and scooted back. She wanted this to be over and done with. Besides, the doctor could always ask her what happened later. She leaned placed her legs up on the stirrups and leaned back.

Realizing the doctor wouldn’t see and how this will delay the procedure some more, she shifted and raised her hips as she pulled her gown up. Damn. It was fucking cold!

She was lying down, her legs up on the stirrups and her pussy the first thing to be seen upon entering when she heard the door open. “I hope you don’t mind me, Miss Tarth. I’m Dr. Lannister” a familiar voice spoke. “Dr. Stark alerted me of the situation and I promise you, everything will be—hey. I know you.”

 _Why_ did she know that voice?

With dread, she slowly pushed herself up on her elbows. Golden hair. Emerald eyes. That face. Those dimples.

_“Jaime?”_


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exploration in embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, Brienne is my favorite character!
> 
> ****
> 
> I don't know if people will still read this given the alleged spoilers going around in the last few days. But if you're like me, I'd rather wait until the actual episode airs before getting my heart broken because nothing's 100% confirmed until that happens. Writing this cheered me up and I hope it does the same to you. :-)

 

CHAPTER TWO

Brienne reeled back against the headboard, her forehead furrowed in confusion as she stared at Jaime. “Uh. . .why—why are you dressed like a doctor?”

His white lab coat looked a lot fancier than. . .well, this entire examination room combined. Starched. Very white. And he had the perfectly-styled, just-tumbled-out-of-bed golden hair to go with it. He looked so fucking shiny she had to squint at him. “Jaime?”

“I’m a doctor,” he answered, lowering the clipboard to his side.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. “No.”

Now he looked confused. “Uh, yes—Brienne,” he added, glancing at the clipboard. “I didn’t know your name’s Brienne. You said it’s Brie. I thought it was funny you’re named after cheese—which is my favorite by the way—but Brienne is pretty.”

She was shaking her head as he was speaking. “No, no, no. This—no, you seriously can’t be a doctor!”

“I’m Dr. Jaime Lannister,” he declared, frowning. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Oh, gods,” Brienne groaned, staring up at the ceiling. “This can’t be happening.”

“Dr. Stark told me about your situation,” Jaime continued and when she glanced at him, he was consulting the clipboard again. An elegant eyebrow nearly hit his hairline. “Wow. Is this true?”

“Is what true?” Brienne grumbled. Damn. Somebody up there did not like her. At all. The one time after who knows how long she fucked a complete stranger. The first! Yes, the first! And then—and then—

He looked at her though the top of the clipboard. “It says here your diaphragm is stuck?”

Remembering the reason why she had her legs up and pussy exposed to the guy who had been inside her less than eight hours ago, Brienne turned a very bright shade of red in an instant. Panicking, she tried to free her legs from the stirrups, swinging them from side to side in her haste. “Get me out of here!” She shrieked, her heart in her throat. “I want another doctor! I want Dr. Stark!”

As she thrashed and tried to heave her hips off the chair, Jaime put the clipboard away and pressed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back to the headboard. She slumped against it with a groan, wishing for the Seven to just take her. _Fucking take her._  Seriously, what could be more awful than having your pussy out for the guy you never thought to see again?

“You’re panicking. Calm down—”

“Jaime, you are not going to---” she couldn’t say it as another vivid flush swept through her. Gritting her teeth, she sputtered, “You can’t be the one to do this! Now let me up!”

“Do what? Get your diaphragm out? Why not?”

“Why not? _Why not?_ ” She howled. She shoved his hands away from her. Jaime stepped back, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “It’s your fault!”

_“What?”_

Okay, she thought she was just on the edge of the cliff earlier. Now she was off. And falling. It was going to be brutal and there was nothing she could but just brace herself for the impact. “You’re too big and fucked me so hard that’s why my diaphragm is stuck in my pussy!”

Jaime looked like someone had rammed him right in the head before glaring at her. “What the hell? You told me to fuck you hard! Three times!”

Dear gods, nobody was going to let her forget it! _“Fuck me hard. Oh, gods. Harder. Yes. Oh, gods. Jaime Jaime Jaime.”_ She had said nothing but those words and their permutations with him. He was _so big_. She had never had anyone that big inside her before. He knew how to kiss. And he had kissed her every-fucking-where. And the way he fucked her—

Snapping back to her senses, she yelled, “It doesn’t mean fucking me so hard that I have this thing jammed up in me! Gods, have you fucked an actual person before? It was like—like—” her ears were red as she choked out, “—it felt like how you’d fuck a sex doll!”

“What? Well, maybe if you were not so fucking tight!”

_“What?”_

Jaime pinched the high bridge of his nose. “Fuck. Sorry. That’s not what I meant to say. I mean, I was thinking it, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“No, no, no. No. Jaime, I don’t want you to be the one to…to fix this. No. No. I can’t—I can’t---” She tried getting off the chair again then wailed, “Fucking help me out of this!”

He sighed loudly. “Look, I understand why you’d want someone else. I get it. I really do. But how long have you had the diaphragm in you?”

Brienne squirmed, feeling her entire body blush with embarrassment. _Will it ever end?_ “I’ve had it in for at least a couple of hours. I mean, you know, how you’re supposed to have it in hours before sex?”

“Yeah. So around two hours?”

“Somebody kill me now.” She groaned, crashing back against the chair in defeat.

 _“Brienne.”_ He snapped impatiently.

Her eyes flashed. “Yes. Two hours. And then. . .and then. . .” She didn’t to finish it.

“We fucked for at least a couple of hours,” he supplied, earning her dagger stare.

“That’s exactly what I want in my tombstone.”

“So, it’s now ten in the morning. Which means you’ve had it in for at least eight hours.”

“Jaime,” she pleaded. “I’d really rather not do this rundown. Just—just get me another doctor.”

“No problem,” he said easily. “Except I’m the only on call for this entire fucking day and night. The longer it’s in you, the higher your risk of toxic shock syndrome.”

“Again, we won’t be in this situation if you didn’t fuck me so fucking hard!”

“And _again_ , you asked me to! Seven hells, Brienne, when you tell a guy that in your phone sex voice, trust me, he’s gonna want to impress you!”

She wished for something to throw at him. “You think I’m fucking impressed?”

The man had the audacity to smirk. And still look like someone she’d want to squeeze between her thighs. _Damn it._ “You kept moaning how big I was. Actually, you ran through an entire thesaurus for that word. I _was_ impressed.”

Brienne flipped him the bird. “Fuck you.”

“Look, bottom line, I’m all you’ve got. So, it’s either possible death or me, Brienne. Which is it?”

She grunted in frustration. “Fuck the gods.”

“What are you so embarrassed about? So, we fucked. Would you rather have some stranger rooting in your vagina or me?”

“Seriously? Rooting, Jaime? How did you even know it was me from my—my---” she turned red again.

“Your pussy, you mean?”

Brienne looked around. “Do you have a scalpel in here somewhere? Or poison? I’d love some.”

“I recognized you because you have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen.”

She didn’t hear _that._ If the gods had mercy, she heard him wrong and please, please, please, if he could just shut up—”

“You have this cute pattern of freckles onyour left groin that’s like a star. An Evenstar, come to think it. I would know. I pretty much spent my head between your legs last night. And the hair---”

She covered her hears. “You’re being ridiculous. And please, feel free to shut up anytime! Or at least give me something to smash my head with! Gods, I want to die.”

Realizing at last just how embarrassed she was, he stopped and looked at her in the eye. “Alright. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for fucking you so hard. I’m sorry for getting, ahem, too descriptive. But what is it? Leave it inside you longer or me, Brienne?”

There was no other way. Eyes rolling back to the ceiling, she expelled a loud breath. “Fine. You do it.”

She tried not to blush again as Jaime pulled a chair from a desk and dragged it towards her feet. She heard the snap of gloves being put on. Sneaking a glance, she saw him put on a mask that covered the lower half of his face.

He should look ridiculous, but he was still a fucking god. There was no justice in the world. Her eyes on the ceiling, she prayed for this day to be over. This was the very bottom of a life.

“I’m going to spread your legs, alright?” He asked, his hands on her knees. She jumped and he patted her. “Relax, Brienne. Are we okay?”

Well, he was. He dug out diaphragms all the time. How could she relax? But she nodded and let him urge her legs apart, the stirrups emitting a soft metallic whine. Then she felt the gentle swoosh of his head moving towards her pussy, his gloved fingers pressing her outer labia to further expose her inner canal. She held her breath, bit her lip.

“Uh, so. . .why did you leave? I’d hoped you were going to stay.” He asked.

Did he ask? Even if he had, she wouldn’t have. Men never asked her to stay. She didn’t know what to make of his inquiry other than he was just being nice. Trying to diffuse the most awkward situation they had been in. “It was just sex, Jaime.”

A pause. She checked and saw his golden head moving. “I see. Well,” he suddenly straightened up and she looked away. “You’re one strong wench to be able to walk. I honestly didn’t think I fucked you that hard. I got carried away.” As her eyes narrowed at him in annoyance, he groaned and sighed loudly. “Which also means your diaphragm is a lot more stuck than I thought.”

Her heart sank. “W-What do you mean?”

“It’s farther inside than I thought. I’m really sorry, Brienne.”

Trying not to panic, she demanded, “Am I going to need surgery?”

“No. No, you won’t. I promise. But we’re going to be a while.” He looked apologetic. “I really am sorry, Brienne.”

“Shit.” She scowled, angry at herself for getting drunk, for going home with the first guy (the only guy) to approach her in the club. “ Jaime, just do whatever you have to do to get my pussy normal and functioning again, okay?”

“You mean your vagina,” he said, standing up from the chair to get something from a metal case resting on a shelf. There was a model of the female reproductive system and the wall next to it were illustrations. “Pussy or cunt is usually the general term for the entire female genitals, referring to the exterior parts. Vagina is where your diaphragm is now.”

“Seriously? You’re giving me a vocabulary lesson?”

He spread his hands. “I just want to make things clear.”

“Jaime?”

“Yes?”

 _“Get it out of my fucking pussy!”_ She roared.

“Will just you relax?” He demanded.

 _“_ You think giving a vocabulary lesson will relax me?”

Jaime pulled out something from the metal case and rolled back between her legs.  He put it down on the small shelf next to him. Though clearly cross, he was really a heavenly-looking man. “Brienne, we’re going to fuck this up if you don’t fucking relax, okay? I need you to calm the fuck down, let me do my job. I’m sorry this is awkward for you. I really am. But if you don’t help me, you’ll be putting yourself in danger. What the fuck is it gonna be?”

“Oh, easy for you to say—you’re not the one with a foreign object stuck inside you!”

They glared at each other, emerald and sapphire eyes bright with the anticipation of the next round in their battle. She was flushed and panting. He was tight-lipped and grim.

“What is it?” He asked softly, sounding dangerous.

_Holy shit. Did her pussy just---_

No. No, it didn’t!

She turned red. _Of course, it did._

Her sigh resigned, she stared at the ceiling again. “Just try, okay?”

This time, she could feel him as he spread her outer labia open. Though his skin was hindered by rubber, she felt his warmth. Her stomach tensed, her breathing sped as fingers entered her pussy, trying to catch the diaphragm. She bit her lip, her heart beat and pulses racing as his fingers plunged and curled, plunged and curled. . .

“Just get it out!” She yelled.

“Brienne, just relax---”

The door suddenly burst open. Brienne shrieked, her thighs immediately clamping around Jaime’s head. His yelp was muffled and she stared with huge eyes at Osha.

Osha’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when she saw where Jaime’s head was. “What on earth is going on here?”

“The Seven fucking kill me now!” Brienne wailed, realizing what she’d done. She quickly opened her thighs and Jaime raised his head. Hair now mussed, he blinked at her repeatedly before turning to Osha. His hands went to fix his hair but suddenly stopped. A deep breath and he pointed at the door.

“Osha, close the door,” he ordered.

“What’s going on? You guys have been yelling at each other for ten minutes.” Osha said, shutting it. She crossed her arms, looking at them expectantly before suddenly grimacing and flinging a hand to her eyes. “Dr. Lannister, please cover your patient!”

She must have done something so evil in her life to be punished like this, Brienne thought helplessly as Jaime stepped between her legs, lowering his mask and standing with his back facing her as he addressed Osha. Someone wanted her to pay dearly. Diaphragm stuck, check. Hot guy she fucked turned out to be doctor, check. Getting so inappropriately turned on while he was examining her, double check. And the latest, locking her thighs around his head in full view of another employee.

She really should have made her final arrangements early.

“We’ve been. . .we know each other,” Jaime told Osha.

“Oh? She’s your girlfriend?” Osha asked, looking around his shoulder to get a peek of Brienne.

“What? No. We fucked last night, and I fucked her hard hence the diaphragm—”

Unbelievable. He might as well announce it on social media! “Jaime, shut up—”

The door flew open again, this time admitting Margaery. “Alright, someone tell me what’s going on because if you harm Brienne—oh.” Her feet skidded into a halt when she saw Brienne’s legs spread wide and Jaime standing between them. Recovering quickly, she put her hands on her hips.

“What the fuck did you do for my best friend to yell at you? Where’s Dr. Stark?”

“I fucked her really hard last night, hence, the situation,” Jaime replied.

“ _Seven_. Will you stop telling people that?” Brienne protested as Margaery walked around him, giving him a thoughtful once-over. “And Marge, come on! Stop looking at him like he’s a piece of meat. And don’t look at me!”

“Thank you,” Jaime said as Margaery laughed and offered her hand.

“You must be the stallion. I’m Margaery.”

“Stallion, huh?” Jaime smiled at Brienne, those lethal dimples nearly undoing her. He spread his hands. “Sorry, Margaery. Can’t do that. I’ve just been inside her.”

“ _Jaime!_ ” Brienne howled, trying to kick him. “Stop telling people what we did and get it out! Come on!’

As Margaery unsuccessfully tried to not giggle and Osha fantastically failed in restraining her smile, Jaime pointed at the door.

“Alright. Everyone, leave. Now. Unless one of us yells for help, nobody comes in here again.” He ordered Osha was the first to leave. Margaery lingered, winking at Brienne and reaching out to pat Jaime on the shoulder.

 “It’s a shit situation but thank you for fucking her last night. I told her she needed it!”

 _“Marge!”_ Brienne yelled.

Margaery grinned blew her a kiss and left. Jaime rolled his eyes and sat back down. Brienne stared at him, her expression tearful and frustrated.

“Are you alright? Brienne? Tell me you’re alright.”

She nodded woodenly. “Just. . .get it out.”

“Relax. Come on. Take a deep breath. I’m not a stranger, Brienne.” His voice suddenly softened. “I hope I won’t be for long, anyway.”

Sapphire and emerald eyes lingered on each other for a moment. As she tried to understand what he could possibly mean, he asked, “What do you say? Come on, we can do this.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright.”

“You have to relax.”

“I’ll try.” She mumbled.

“That’s good enough.”

He lowered his head between her thighs again, fingers gently spreading her outer labia. They delved inside her pussy with the kind of care and assurance that drew her spine into an arch, for a soft gasp to leave her lips. Her nipples thrust against the hospital gown as a hot wave swept through her.

“Relax, Brie. Relax,” he urged, spreading her wider still, his fingers probing. She squeezed her eyes shut, stiffening.

“Brienne.” His fingers remained in her as she sensed him raise his head. Seeing her scrunched expression, he demanded, “Seven hells. Am I hurting you?”

She opened her eyes. “N-no.”

“You’re breathing really fast. You’re clenching.” She jumped when he suddenly kissed her on the knee and turned back to her. “Sweetheart, you have to relax.”

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Habit.”

“It’s a habit of yours to kiss your patients?”

“No, it’s a habit for me to kiss someone who’s scared. I don’t want you hurt, Brienne.”

 _No, you’re making me feel good!_ How much more embarrassed did she have to be? She took a deep breath, pulling his fingers deeper in her as she moved. “I-I’m just. . .”

“What? Tell me. Now, Brienne. I don’t want you hurt.”

In a small voice, she admitted, “I’m sensitive.”

Jaime paled. “Shit. I’m hurting you.”

He started pulling out and she shook her head miserably. “N-no. It’s not that. It’s just. . .”

Since she suddenly stopped speaking, he asked, “What is it?”

Tearful, she whimpered, “I—I’m feeling things. Things I shouldn’t feel when you’re doing. . .that.”

“Huh?”

“Look, it’s not exactly great what you’re doing to me because of what’s happened but. . .but. . .I’m—I’m—I’m getting---”

And _finally_ he realized what she was hoping not to say. It was almost comical how surprised he looked when the truth slammed him right in the face. He let out a breath, long and unsteady.

“Ah, shit. I’m not—”

“I know.”

“Okay. Because I’m trying to help—”

 _“I know, Jaime.”_ Feeling herself about to cry, she added, “Just get it out.”

“Uh, yeah, about that. I can now say without a doubt it’s lodged. I can’t reach inside just like this.” He told her, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “I’m gonna have to use a speculum.”

“Shit.” Just as well. That duckbilled thing inside her exactly what she deserved for reacting as she had during the examination. She certainly won’t get turned on by it.

“You okay there?” Jaime asked, applying a special substance on the instrument.

“Just when I think it couldn’t get any worse. I’m not fucking anyone again.”

“Come on, that’s a little extreme.” He gently chided her as he got ready. They exchanged a look and she nodded, willing herself again to relax. He watched her breathe in and out before beginning to insert the speculum inside her. She froze at the unyielding metal.

“Just relax, sweetheart. Relax. I’ll do everything to make it alright, I promise.”

It was a mantra he uttered as he guided the speculum inside her. Brienne willed her self to breath as it rested inside her, grimacing as she felt its first thrust. His head disappeared between her legs.

“I’m, uh, going to open you up.”

“`Kay.”

He pressed the lever. She grunted as the bills opened her.

“Damn it.”

“What?”

Jaime sighed loudly. “Brienne, I can’t. I can see how far it is but with the speculum in the way, I can’t reach inside and get it.”

“I can try pressing down?”

“No. No. Not with a speculum inside you. I need you wider.” He was talking to himself now, looking around the room for the perfect instrument. “Wider so I can see and reach in. Alright. Sweetheart, I have to pull the speculum out.”

“What? Why? You have to try! Can’t you try?” She pleaded. “Please, Jaime?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s impossible, Brienne. Hold on. Let me try something else.”

Relieved of the device, Brienne groaned as the speculum was completely pulled out of her. Setting it down on the table next to him, he turned to her. He looked even more grim.

“Brienne, I’ll have to try forceps.”

_“What?”_

“I know it’s unusual. But this is not an ordinary situation.”

She wanted to rage and throw things, to fall on the floor and just let arms and legs flail. Cry it out. As Jaime continued explaining what he hoped to do next, her face crumped and big, fat tears exploded from her eyes.

“Brienne, sweetheart—” he began, his eyes betraying his helplessness. As her hands clapped over her face to quiet her sobs, he lowered his mask and removed the gloves. Her refusal to let tears overtake her, hating how she was crying. But when his arms closed around her trembling body, her head dropped to his chest and out came a loud, wet sob.

He made nonsense coos and other noises that nevertheless assured her. His hand rubbed up and down her back as she clung to him, hating what had happened, hating herself. She only needed a break from supervising programming all those new computers at work and installing them. Bugs and crashes had kept her department busy all week. Marge had joked she needed a good banging to get her head back in the game, to be refreshed and relaxed for the next week. It was ridiculous for she was not the sort who could simply get laid. Not with height, her looks. How was she to resist the blond, living god that walked up to her in the bar? He praised her for her legs. Actually looked her in the eye and declared he wanted to get to know her even after she tried blowing him off. Then when she finally stood up after agreeing to make out at his place, he had looked rather pleased with how she towered over him. That never happened.

In the alley they kissed like lovers who will never see each other again. Cupped her tits through her clothes to make her moan. In the cab she sucked his tongue as he raised her skirt, palmed her pussy. Nibbled on his lip as he grunted his address to the driver. In his bed, they fucked. Jaime, he told her to call him. Jaime, not god. And it was funny and he looked so hot and fucking sexy. He was huge and made her feel good just by looking at her with those amazing emerald eyes. They fucked with him on top. On their sides. Then her on top. Each time she screamed for more, _harder._ Quite literally sang very graphic phrases about his big cock. He smiled. A beautiful, dimpled smile that got her all mushy and wet.

As her sobs quieted and her heaving body softened against him, she felt his fingers trace her chin. Curious, she looked up, eyes watery and questioning. Her lips parted as he brushed a lock of her hair away, the movement as light as air but felt deep in her bones. She did the same to him, feeling the twitch of muscle under his cheek when he smiled, his beard rasp on her palm.

She breathed when he suddenly kissed her palm, licked her lips when his kisses traveled down to her wrist, down to rest of her arm before lingering on the warm arc between neck and shoulder. Then their lips were touching, their kiss gentle as it was heated. She couldn’t turn completely to the side because her feet remained in the stirrups but it was no hindrance to the deepening brush of their lips. She grinned as she felt him fumble for a release at the side of the chair that had it reclining some more, his body automatically following hers as it lowered.

“Dr. Lannister, I know you said not to—what on earth?” Osha demanded.

The spell shattered, Jaime ripped his mouth away from Brienne. The three of them stared at each other in disbelief. Brienne, remembering her position, slapped her palms over her reddening face in humiliation.

“Osha, please leave us.” Was Jaime’s quiet command.

“I’m so sorry. I just came to check because it got quiet. . .now I won’t.” Osha hastily let herself out, shutting the door with a slam.

Brienne watched his shoulders rise then sink as he got hold of himself. When he turned to her, his expression was cool.

“My apologies. That was unprofessional.”

She shook her head. “Um. . .uh, it doesn’t bother me.”

He looked relieved. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Putting on a fresh pair of gloves, he returned to stand between her legs. “Sorry about the forceps. Are you still with me?”

She nodded.

“Good. We’re getting this out of you, Brienne. I promise. How about some ibuprofen?” At her puzzled look, he explained, “It’s for the pain.”

“Shit, it’s going to hurt?”

“Yeah. The ibuprofen is to make it a bit more bearable.”

She nodded. Jaime opened a drawer and popped out a pill from the push tab then got her some water from the dispenser. She swallowed it then lay back down.

“I’m never going to use a fucking diaphragm again.” She complained, resting an arm over her forehead as she listened to him get the forceps out of the box again.

“We’ll discuss alternative methods of contraception later,” he told her, taking a seat. H snapped his mask back on. “Ready?”

She filled her lung with a lot of air, her cheeks ballooning and red before forcibly expelling it. “Damn it, yes.”

She bit her lip, whimpering as she felt the instrument enter her pussy. Over and over she chanted to herself to relax as the forceps worked inside her, turning a little, turning some more. She focused her eyes on the bright white sphere of light at the ceiling, fisting the fabric of her gown as he grunted and growled under his breath, trying to get hold of the diaphragm. Then—

_“Ow!”_

“Sorry. Almost there!”

“G-Gods---” she gasped, face twisting in pain. It was a struggle not to thrash and wail. It wasn’t the most painful thing she had experienced but on a scale between one to fifteen, it was definitely above midway. Fucking above, most definitely.

“There—there---I got it—got it—got it---” Jaime was muttering to himself as she felt the forceps slide out of her. She raised her head at the exact moment he pulled it out, so she saw the trail of fluids and blood. Her stomach flipped, and she looked away lest she got sick. Instead,  she heard the clang of the forceps on a tray, the wet plop of her bloody diaphragm.

“It’s out. Gods, it really is fucking out at last,” Jaime was saying as he removed his mask and gloves. Wearily, she turned back to him. Triumph lit up his face.

“Yay,” was all she could say. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for working with me too.” He helped remove her feet from the stirrups and when she started sitting up, was quickly at her side with an arm around her back. As the feeling returned to her legs, she laughed and dropped her head on his shoulder. He chuckled too and hugged her. “It’s over, Brienne.”

“I know. Gods. That was hands down the scariest and most humiliating moment of my life.” She whispered, looking up at him with a wan smile. He smiled back.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

It was sweet how he helped her off the seat. Good thing he did because her legs kind of collapsed under her from the sudden surge of sensation. She blushed as he kept his arm around her waist and walked her behind the screen. It was nice having someone strong and stead to lean on.

“The diaphragm should come with a warning,” she said as they shuffled together. “Like, you know, ‘can get stuck during vigorous sex’ or something like that.”

Jaime gave her a squeeze. “I have to agree. I never thought I’d do something like that.”

She stopped and gave him a slight kick. “I thought you have! And Osha said this happens all the time.”

“Nope. Sorry, sweetheart but I had to lie. I needed you to trust me. And yeah, I did know what I was doing once I crossed out the things that weren’t working.”

“I guess it worked out in the end,” she admitted as they resumed walking. He continued to basically pull her with him. And she liked it. “Jaime?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I was a fucking shrew. Yelling at you like that.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “All part of the job. I’d be yelling too if I had something up my ass.”

She laughed, and they stopped before the modesty screen. Jaime’s arm loosened from around her and she suddenly felt cold.

“Say, uh, I don’t know if this is the appropriate time to say this, Brienne,” he said, looking at his shoes briefly then her. “But I figure since we’ve been quite intimate in the last hour—”

“Oh, gods. Don’t remind me again,” she groaned, covering her blushing face with her palms. To her surprise, his hands pried them away from her. His expression was serious.

“I know you said last night was just about sex. I’d completely understand if that’s all there is. But I’d like to try again.”

“Try what again?”

“To see you.” He touched her cheek. “But not here.”

Her mouth dropped open. _Not here? Did he mean--_

“Of course,” he continued after a moment of silence. “I mean, if you’re into some kinky stuff like the one we just did—"

She burst out laughing and slapped him on the arm. “You’re weird.”

His eyes shone then ran a hand through his mussed hair. Her knees weakened, remembering what had upset the style. “Hopefully not too weird. Or you know, your kind of weird. I don’t know. You don’t have to answer now, you don’t have to answer, really. But I thought I’d let you know.”

He winked at her and turned to leave. She watched him go, hung between certainty and anxiety over what just happened, what he said. There was an answer right at the tip of her tongue but it was something else that came out.

“I’m in I.T.”

“What?” He looked back. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged and spread her hands. “I know you’re a doctor now. I thought you should know I’m in I.T. I run the department, actually.”

“Huh.” He looked like he was considering it for a second before a suggestive smile lit up his face. “That’s great. I’d love for you to take a look at my hard drive sometime.”

“Oh, gods. Do you ever shut up?”

“Fuck, no.”

She could not stop smiling. She physically could not.

“Get dressed then we’ll talk about your other options. And Brienne?”

“Yeah?”

He smirked. “Don’t forget your panties this time.”

He closed the door behind him, thus missing out how her face flared brighter than a red traffic light’s. _She had left her underwear on his bathroom floor._

 

 

 

*****  
“Okay, you’re right. This is a much better way of celebrating getting that thing out of your pussy,” Margaery said sometime later. She took a huge bite of the pepperoni pizza.

“Yeah. Good for you to know that fucking isn’t the only way for celebrating. . .anything.” Brienne retorted.

Exhausted from her ordeal, all Brienne wanted to was curl up in bed and not move until Monday. Margaery lived a few doors down and had already invited herself over to sleep in her apartment.

Wrung out, Brienne was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She woke up to sunset outside of her window. When she padded to the kitchen, Margaery was unpacking the buffet of their favorite greasy food: pizza and Chinese.

Now they were on the couch, Brienne’s legs on Margaery’s lap. Their eyes were glued to the latest episode of _Narcos._

“You know, I would have paid better attention in history class if it was taught like this,” Margaery remarked, squeezing more hot sauce on her pizza.

Suddenly, the buzzer rang. They looked at each other curiously. Before Brienne could get up, Margaery was putting her friend’s legs away and jogging toward the intercom. She pressed a button.

“Who is it?”

“Delivery for Brienne Tarth?”

“Oh.” Margaery glanced at Brienne, who shrugged to indicate she didn’t know. “Who’s it from?”

“Jaime Lannister?”

Margaery grinned while Brienne blushed. “Come on right up.”

“It’s sweet of him to send flowers but you should tell him you’re allergic,” she told Brienne as she went to unlock the door.

“He’s not going to send me flowers, Marge. It’s probably just prescription or something.”

“Right. Because doctors have your stuff delivered now.”

Someone knocked and Margaery squealed, clapping her hands. She opened the door, wearing a smile that no doubt got the delivery guy’s blood hot. “Hello. From Jaime Lannister, you say?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The man was boyish-looking with dark hair. He was carrying a pretty gold box with a crimson bow, and a matching paper bag. Margaery signed for them and waved goodbye to the boy. Closing the door with her hip because she had the packages in her arms, she asked out loud, “I wonder what the good doctor has for you.”

“Just get over here,” Brienne said, sitting up. She tried not to be affected but she was curious. Why would Jaime send her stuff?

He was very patient, funny and sweet. He looked and sounded sincere about wanting to see more of her. If she were just like any other woman, she would answer right away. Lingering embarrassment was a huge factor in her hesitation. Another was she still couldn’t get around to the idea that he must like her. Really like her. But he didn’t raise the subject again when they were in his office talking about alternative contraceptive options. She was both relieved. . .and disappointed.  

Margaery sat down. Brienne removed the bow from the box followed by the lid. Upon seeing what was inside, she frowned.

Margaery looked just as confused as she was.

“Apple pie? Well, you got that right, Brie, about him not sending you flowers. What’s in the bag?”

Brienne peeked in then took it out. “Gourmet vanilla ice cream?”

“You gotta love the guy who doesn’t give you anything lite or diet,” Margaery declared, taking it from her. She looked down at the luscious dessert again. “Sweet on Dr. Lannister to take care of our dessert needs, isn’t it?”

Brienne noticed for the first time a card attached to the bag. She tear it off and opened it.

_Ice cream for your pie. Sorry about the morning you had._

_J_

She showed it Margaery, who laughed. She couldn’t help but laugh too. As she was putting the card away, instinct told her to look behind it. She wasn’t disappointed.

It was his number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I'm super-stoked with the response from the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed the latest--I had fun writing it!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne on a date.

CHAPTER THREE

Two days later

“Good evening and welcome to House of Black and White. Do you have a reservation?”

Brienne blinked back at the host looking at her with a friendly but bland expression. His hair was dark blond, swept back from his forehead and pulled back in a ponytail. He was. . .a very noticeable man rather than handsome although he was far, far from ugly. Remembering what he asked of her, she nodded and stammered, “Um, uh, it’s Jaime Lannister.”

“Ah, Mr. Lannister,” The man looked at his clipboard with flourish and shot her a smile that gracious and warm. “He has been expecting you. Follow me, miss.”

Brienne tried not to fidget as she fell behind the man. With so very little time to get ready between work and this dinner, she had changed in the office. Thanks to Marge, she didn’t have much to do. She kept her black pencil mini-skirt on but changed her long-sleeved blouse for a sleeveless, scooped-neck royal blue top. She ditched her loafers in the office and replaced them with pretty black flats.

She didn’t want to be as dressed up as the first night she and Jaime met. If he was really interested, he had to know early on that she hardly went around in racy cocktail dresses and heels. Her style emphasized the practical and the comfortable, with just a touch or two of something fun or maybe flirty.

She saw Jaime as they approached the table and he grinned, getting up from the chair when they were near. Man, did he look good. Thick, golden hair brushed back and moving even with the slightest motion  of his head without disarranging the style, his white coat exchanged for a tailored black suit. He looked much taller, almost sylph-like but she knew for a fact of the serious set of muscles packed in his sexy body.

“You’re blushing,” he greeted her, his lips quick to land on her lips rather than her cheek. He pulled back a little, his smile widening. Gods, he looked really pleased to see her, she thought in disbelief before he leaned in to kiss her again. She kissed him back, letting him part her lips open. He hummed against her tongue when she touched his chest.

By the time they pulled apart, her face and neck were the color of overripe tomatoes. Jaime told the host he will be taking care of his guest and requested for the menu.

Jaime pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, grateful for the weight taken off her quaking knees. He went to his seat as the host addressed him.

“At once, Mr. Lannister,” the host said with a quick bow. A server approached them, two leather menus in hand. He took the menus from the guy and handed one first to Brienne then Jaime.

“Our dishes are as inspired as they are delicious. Your server Jojen will be happy to assist you. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Lannister, ma’am.” The host said, smoothly turning over the service to the younger guy.

“Good evening,” Jojen said, smiling at them briefly before launching on a practiced spiel. “For tonight’s specials. . .”

Brienne was not listening at all. Her attention was on Jaime’s hand on hers, his fingers having slipped easily between her own and now holding her in a way that felt oddly familiar but also new. He had a beautiful hand. Trimmed, rounded nails. Long, slender fingers. Suddenly remembering she had those same fingers in her, and doing something a lot more pleasurable than holding her hand, she blushed hotly and squirmed in her seat. It drew Jaime’s eyes to her, his look curious but his smile warm before turning back to Jojen.

“All sound delicious. What do you think, Brienne?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “I’ve never been here before. What do you recommend?”

“Their specials sound delicious. Would you like to try them?”

“Actually, I’m more of the sort to try food that a restaurant is known for. Is that alright?”

“Of course,” he squeezed her hand.

“Do you want recommendations or shall I give you time to decide?” Jojen asked.

“We’ll just call you, Jojen. Thanks.”

They opened the menus. There were no photos, just fancy paper with curvy, gold font. Brienne glanced at Jaime over the top of hers. “So, you come here often?”

“It’s my first time.” He told her and she was glad. “Anything looks good?”

Brienne blinked at the menu. “They have eel.”

“And it’s swimming up the river,” Jaime added, knowing what part of the menu she was on. They looked at each other, made a face and laughed.

“How about this. We don’t eat anything alive, only things that are well-cooked. Unless it’s steak because it’s best medium rare.” He suggested.

“And no giving anyone a hard time for being a little healthy or wanting to be sinful,” she added.

“Shake on it?”

They did, their hands touching again before retracting them to flip another page on the menu.

In the end, the decided on two starters: a platter of various aged cheeses and an order of aged culatello di zibello, served with campanine apples. For the first course, Brienne chose spaghetti cooked in crustacean broth with with red shrimp tartare and vegetables while Jaime’s was tagliatelle with hand-chopped ragu. For the second, Jaime wanted suckling pig with pickled vegetables and Brienne ordered lobster with double sauces. They nodded enthusiastically at Jojen’s wine recommendations for both main courses.

Left to themselves, Brienne was glad when Jaime once again reached for her hand. “It’s good to see you,” he said, sounding and looking like he meant it. “I was worried you didn’t want to see me again after what happened.”

“Jaime, I don’t think anyone would want to see me again after what happened,” she told him. “But I thought you were just being nice when you said that after. . .um, you know.”

“Are you okay now? Any pain or discomfort?” As Brienne blushed, he cringed and sighed. “Sorry. I have trouble going off doctor mode.”

“No, it’s fine. And I’m okay, thanks for asking.”

“Can I say something?”

“Sure.”

“This is the first time since I became a doctor that there’s no awkwardness telling someone what I do. It’s not like when you’re a neurosurgeon and people will just, ‘Ah,’ and nothing more because who he fuck wants to talk about brains during a meal? Or you’re a cardiologist and people ask you about strange pains in the chest, their cholesterol. It’s fucking great.” His eyes were sparkling as he spoke, proof of his delight in not having to go through this awkwardness. “That means, I don’t have to bore you with my job and can ask about yours. And anything else I can think of and want to know about you. You said you’re in I.T.?”

“Yeah,” Brienne answered. “Um, I run the department actually.”

Jaime looked impressed. “So, you’re the boss?”

“Well. . .I do report to someone higher than me but essentially, I am. It’s a small department. There’s just seven of us.”

“Where do you work?”

Brienne’s eyes brightened. “Now this is when it can get awkward. I work at the Kingsland headquarters of WIA.”

Jaime frowned. “WIA as in. . .Westeros Intelligence. . .Agency?”

“But I’m not a spy. Seriously. I just program the computers and get them to work, fix bugs, that’s it. Boring for those not into it, but I love it. There’s something about this box of chips and wires that can hold terrabytes of data and it’s basically a playground of what you can make them do.”

“Does that mean you can track everyone’s activities online?”

Brienne laughed. “No comment!”

Water was poured into goblets. Shortly after came the wine, in another set of goblets, then their starters.

The rest of the meal pass unnoticed. Their plates were cleared and replaced with new ones, with fresh, warm food. Without a doubt it was delicious, but their conversation was much more enticing.

Jaime, she found out, was a merciless chess player but liked to unwind best by biking through the rough mountain trails or running. He loved classic war movies and listened to a lot of punk rock. He played the violin as a boy but found himself very restless indoors. He claimed to be great at barbecuing everything, and said that when he had her over next time, he was going to make her the best barbecued vegetables she’d ever had, finished with lemon meringue ice cream.

He was intrigued to find out she grew up in Tarth and yes, as it went with everyone from the island, she was an expert surfer. She ran as well, but only on her treadmill because she couldn’t stay out too long in the sun before turning red as a lobster. She was embarrassed to admit her love for stoner comedies. She loved metal but also classical pieces played on the piano. She was self-taught with the guitar. She was the proud owner of three hundred take-out menus and was friendly with every restaurant within a five-mile radius.

They took a walk after a big meal. Brienne didn’t know at one point they started holding hands again but there they were, shuffling down the sidewalk while everyone else hurried past.

There was no topic that stopped them from talking. Laughter, sweeping hand gestures and exasperated sighs and explanations came with discussions about weird food combinations, things they would rather do, books and movies. She was still all giggly and red and he was barely keeping it together as they staggered to a Dairy Maid stall.

“Okay, we deserve ice cream after the talk we had!” Brienne exclaimed, scanning the top for the menu. Hearing Jaime take out his wallet, she stopped him. “No. This is my treat. And not because I lost the fucking debate, Jaime.”

Jaime held up his hands and said to the amused cashier. “I’ll never stop a woman from getting what she wants.”

“I’ll have Berry Bliss with an extra dark chocolate swirl. What do you want?”

“Ah. That one. Chocolate Devil. With extra raspberries.”

Ice cream in hand, they continued walking. Jaime scooped some of his dessert and offered it to her, and she gasped that it was too sweet. He liked her ice cream.

They disposed of the tubs in a bin by the traffic light. Brienne frowned at her fingers. “They’re sticky. Do you have moist towelette or something?”

“I’m a guy. I don’t carry anything towelette or moist. But I have an idea.” Jaime winked at her and before she could stop him, he was licking her fingers. Right there in the street for everyone to see!

“She’s redder than the light, man,” a man remarked as he walked past them. Brienne lowered her head and Jaime laughed, throwing his arms around her for a brief hug before crossing the street together.

“I fucking have no idea where we are right now,” Jaime said as they now walked with their arms around each other.

“I do. I live four blocks from here.”

“Is that right?” he said suggestively, making her blush again. “So fucking unbelievable.”

“What? That I live close?”

“No.”

They stopped, facing each other. Jaime’s eyes were soft as he gazed at her, a hand reaching up to brush her hair away from her face, cradling her cheek briefly before his palm traced the curve between neck and shoulder. The whole time he touched her, her cheeks were as red as apples.

“It’s unbelievable how seeing you blush is becoming one of my favorite things. How do you blush so much? And so fucking easily? There you go again,” he said affectionately as she turned away, failing to fight off the capillaries in her face from getting the better of her. Strong arms wrapping around her waist, he whispered, “How is it that I’ve just known you, but I already can’t imagine being without you, Brienne?”

She stared wordlessly, trying to see for a twitch in his face that would tell her he was just kidding. But there was nothing. Just kind emerald eyes and the look of a man who clearly wanted her.

“Uh, I—I think that’s brain freeze talking,” she stammered, biting her lip and blushing some more. “Skip the ice cream next time.”

He laughed and she smiled shyly. Then he rested his forehead against hers.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re not.”

“I promise to turn down the crazy next time.”

“Next time,” she took a deep breath and kissed him lightly. He sighed against her. “When will that be?”

“What’s your day like tomorrow?”

“Hmm. I’ll wake up, shower. Get dressed. Work. Have tuna sandwich for lunch. Exciting times.”

“I’m on the edge of my seat, that’s true. Care to make it boring?”

“I was wondering when you’ll be stepping in.”

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast.” His teeth grazed her lower lip then before taking a very light, playful bite.

“Why don’t I make you breakfast? Being that we’re only four blocks and a few fucks away?”

“Not yet, Brienne. You just started.”

“Started?” She was puzzled.

Jaime pulled a little away from her but kept his arms around her waist. “As the doctor who gave you the prescription, I know for a fact it hasn’t been seven days since you started on the Pill.”

“I know. But you can wear a condom.”

“I didn’t bring any.”

Brienne was surprised. Seeing this, Jaime shrugged and flushed.

“I like you a lot, Brienne. You’re just. . .well, amazing doesn’t really cut it. You have no idea how much I want to fuck you. And your nipples have been driving me fucking insane all night. I want to lift your top and just suck them and lick them, make you scream. I want to fuck you all night. And until the next day. But I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to know you. Know more of you.” He smiled and shrugged. “I swear I’m not pulling your long leg, Brienne. I’ve never been this intrigued with anyone before. Something tells me we should not rush this. That's why I don't have any condoms with me. So, if you’re okay with that. . .”

This was most unexpected.

Brienne did not know what to expect from this night, so she thought it best to have zero expectations and just have fun when possible.

What she got was the best time in her life. No one had made her feel so appreciated until Jaime. No one outside of her family and close friends, that is. Every time she talked tonight, he gave her his full attention, his eyes looking at her intently.

She had readied herself for another hot, quick fuck. She knew what guys were like. They were hardly attracted to her but they sure wanted to fuck her for bragging rights. Not once did she sense that about Jaime. He saw what she really looked like. Good heavens, he had been deeper inside her in ways no man had ever been, figuratively and literally. He looked at her in a way that made her feel stripped but for the first time in her life, not apologetic. No embarrassment.

Jaime watched her the entire time, his expression hopeful. She knew that from this night, her life would never be the same. As long as she chose right.

“Breakfast at your place tomorrow, is that it?”

“Yeah. And don’t worry. I believe in a real, hearty meal. No sissy protein shakes. Unless I’m feeling fat in my jeans.”

She laughed and he looked relieved. “What do you say?”

She put her hands on his jaw and kissed him gently on the lips. “You had me at ‘ice cream for your pie,’  Jaime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm sorry it took so long to update. And that there's no smut here. Next one will have smut. Lots of it! 
> 
> ****  
> I ripped off the food Jaime and Brienne order from the menu of Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy. My vision of Kingsland is it's like New York City, with some actual food from the real world (Chinese, Italian) and my own inventions. The Dairy Maid is of course inspired by Dairy Queen.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast of champions.
> 
> So to speak.

“No, no, no. For the hundredth time, Marge, we’re not going to use agency sources to find out anything about Jaime Lannister!” Brienne exclaimed exasperatedly.

Margaery, who was looking in Brienne’s closet for an outfit that was both work-appropriate but will make Jaime Lannister devour her for breakfast, smirked at her over a slender shoulder. “Ooh. You must really like him, Brie,” she teased then resuming rifling through the rack. “You didn’t stop me from looking up that Hyle character. And that Dornish guy. The one who owns the adult bookstore?”

Brienne reddened in embarrassment and threw a pillow at her. She yelped as it bounced off her butt. “Oberyn.”

“How can someone who purveys porn be the most boring guy in bed?” Margaery wondered out loud before groaning, “Geez, Brie. Nuns have racier outfits than this! I should take you shopping again. It certainly worked the last time,” she added with a wink. She was responsible for the dress Brienne was wearing the night she met Jaime.

“I don’t want Jaime to think I’m the kind who dresses up. And he liked what I wore to dinner last night to ask me to come over today.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s not because of the clothes. It’s what he’s had and wants more of.” Margaery said suggestively, squealing again when another pillow flew at her. “Quit it or you’ll just have to show up in your underwear! Hey, that’s not a bad idea at all.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and joined her in front of the closet. She reached in and pulled out one of the many black suits she wore often. “I’m wearing this. Look, this is tailored and fits me nicely.”

Hazel-brown eyes peered at it critically. “Hmm. Yes. I’ve seen you in this and you look good. But maybe you should ditch the pants this time, Brienne. You have amazing legs. Make Jaime regret waiting to fuck you—although it’s really sweet of him.

Brienne quickly turned away to hide her blush and her body’s embarrassing response.

Jaime Lannister was hazardous to her mental health—and her body. His beautiful face was always in her thoughts, as was his gorgeous body. She got all pink and sweaty thinking about last night, when he admitted wanting to fuck her so much but giving more importance to them getting to know each other too. He was attentive and a true gentleman—well, except for the speech that, as she was beginning to learn from him, a mix of awkwardness, honesty, inappropriateness and romantic. He seemed to be the only guy who can say ‘pussy’ and make it sound like poetry.

She cleared her throat, hoping to distract herself from the tightening of her nipples and her moistening pussy. She put the suit on the bed and turned just as Margaery was holding up a silk blue cami top. “That’s the undershirt I wear with a matching blouse,” she said, puzzled.

“Well, today, you’re wearing it out. Black and blue make a statement and with your gorgeous eyes, the combo will punch Jaime right in the gut—or his blue balls.”

Brienne was about to protest but Margaery shook her head determinedly. “Spare me the speech, Brie. We both know you want to fuck him. Why won’t you? He’s gorgeous, he saved your pussy from your diaphragm—because he was a fucking stallion—and so far, a darn nice guy. At least if he turns out to be an asshole later, you have the memory of a great fuck.”

Yes, she wanted to fuck Jaime. Badly. He pretty much devoured her when kissing her and he sure had octopus hands, although one liked her pussy very much. He was the best fuck she’d had. Normally, she would be fine if this was the only takeaway. But as Marge said, Jaime Lannister was a darn nice guy. Guys weren’t exactly lining up to fuck her, or even slightly interested. It was her height. Her face. Her job. Her bank account. Too much of everything, according to an ex. There was nothing she could do about her genes. Nor would she apologize for having a good job that helped buy her apartment at thirty-four years old.

Jaime was. . .nice. Yes. But he was not bland and certainly far from boring. He was a sweet dork trapped in a face and body crafted by the gods. Not to mention funny, smart, friendly and successful. He made her feel good all over, and not just with his cock. He never made her feel being too much was awful. Her stomach got all fluttery and warm as the memory of him kissing up and down her legs when they first slept together swept through her.

Still, Brienne wanted to respect Jaime’s request to wait. If only she wasn’t so desperate to have him inside her again. Something about having him inside her felt like the rightest thing. That was the simple fact.

Following Margaery’s instructions, Brienne got dressed. Another black skirt replaced her trousers, but this one was straight and ended at the knee rather than the mini-skirt her best friend wanted. She paired the cami with the black suit jacket. In the mirror, a furrowed forehead and sapphire eyes wide with uncertainty stared back at her. The result was not overtly sexy—the buttoned jacket concealed her nipples straining against the silk of the cami. She just never noticed the surprisingly low neckline. Black, low-heeled loafers, to her, anyway, conveyed professionalism rather than sex.

It was the thong. The blasted teeny thing was chewing on her ass—it was the most fucking uncomfortable thing she had put on. Seven, how did people feel sexy with something riding up the ass all day? But Marge managed to talk her into buying a few pairs a while ago but never wore them—until now. The tags had to be snipped off.

Seeing the discomfort on her face, Margaery said, “Just relax, Brie. You look great. I promise. But make sure that before you get to Jaime’s, this is open,” she reached from behind to unbutton the jacket and smirked while Brienne blushed hotly. “He’s going to love a side of tits on toast so much that he’s gonna want to butter your muffin.”

“Don’t ruin breakfast for me,” Brienne groaned as she Margaery giggled.

“Look, Jaime’s percolating like a motherfucker and he’s ready to burst and pour.”

“Marge!”

"Don't you want to stir?"

"Ugh." 

She was all flushed and very conscious of it in the subway on her way to Jaime’s place. Grasping an overhead bar, she felt exposed despite the buttoned jacket and her skirt flat and hanging all the way down to her knees. Never had she been so relieved when the train pulled up at the station. Slipping easily through the rush and crush, she hurried to a restroom and relieved herself of the punishing teeny garment. She stuffed it in her bag then took the stairs out of the station.

Jaime lived two blocks away. He promise her a hearty breakfast but she couldn’t resist entering a neighborhood bakery and getting some double chocolate muffins. The warm aroma of chocolate trailed after for the rest of her walk, causing people to either sniff the air appreciatively or stare after her.

The same doorman from their first night was stationed in front of the building. “Good morning, miss. May I help you?”

“Um, I’m off to see Jaime Lannister? I believe he’s expecting me?”

“Ah, yes. He told me to look out for you, Ms. Tarth.” He got the door for her and smiled. “In you go.”

Because it was late and she was a little drunk when she first came here, she did not pay any attention to the lobby. With a much clearer head and sunlight, the grandeur left her gobsmacked. Thick carpets with exotic designs in crimson and gold, sofas upholstered in silk, coffee and accent tables that appeared to be hand-carved with delicate paintings of flowers and vines. The imperial atmosphere was a little disorienting that it took her a moment to recover and head for the elevators.

The scent of freshly-baked chocolate muffins continued to follow her walking down the hallway. She raised her hand to knock on the door when it suddenly opened and the bright, dimpled smile of a mortal in a god’s body appeared before her.

“You’re here. At last,” Jaime greeted her, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her eagerly on the lips. As her cheeks turned pink, he pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

“How did you know I was coming?” She asked, feeling herself a little breathless as he pressed her against the door and continued kissing her on the neck. How could a man smell so fucking good? He smelled of something crisp and lemony, bringing to mind sun-drenched afternoons.

“Front desk called,” he explained, finally kissing her on the lips. She went from being still and panting against him to throwing her arms around his shoulders and a long, muscular leg hitching up his thigh. He felt _wonderful._  His body was so hard and warm, and the rustle of his linen shirt against her silk top made her arch and kiss him back harder and deeper. She felt him smile through their kiss and was so _fucking glad_ when he caressed her hips, scooped her ass and started pulling her skirt up.

He sucked her lips between his teeth and she reciprocated, loving how his chest rumbled with a mix of a groan and a laugh against her tits. His cheeks and jaw were still cool from the aftershave, his trimmed beard tickling her face, then her neck when his lips lowered to the pulse at the freckled base.

She shivered as her heart leaped wildly in her chest. Still holding him by the shoulders, her head fell back, thudding quite heavily against the door. The pain went unnoticed, and when he grinded his erection against her, gone. His name a tight, throaty grunt as his teeth raked across her jaw as a hand slipped under a skirt now pushed up to her thighs. When he palmed her bare pussy, she squawked and dropped the package of double chocolate muffins on the floor.

Jaime, stilling against her and panting loudly, demanded, “What was that?”

“M-muffins,” she whispered, forcing herself to not move against his hand. Her face was red from forehead to chest and her desperation to fuck herself on his fingers was so embarrassing. Something between a miracle and sense stopped her.

“No. You’re not wearing panties?”

“Um. . .no.”

“Ever?” His voice sounded strangled. His black pupils was blown from desire, overtaking the beautiful green of his eyes.

“N-no. Just—just this one time—”

“Like today?” Jaime continued to speak in a pitched voice.

She nodded, her eyes looking very big and blue.

“Why aren’t you wearing panties today?”

She gulped. “Um. . .for you?”

_“You’re not wearing panties for me?”_

“I know you want to wait,” she wailed, sweat exploding from her skin as her struggle to not move and take more became clear. “But Jaime, isn’t there any way of changing your mind? I mean. . .can’t we get to know each other while fucking too? I’m sorry if this offends you but—but---”

He cut her off with a crushing kiss on the mouth. His hand on her pussy firmed. Then just as suddenly, he ripped his mouth off her. His nostrils flaring, he seemed to glare at her before hissing, “Never apologize for not wearing panties for me, Brienne. _Never_.”

She blinked at him disbelievingly. “You’re not mad?”

 _“I’m fucking furious you didn’t tell me right away!”_ He growled, the ferocity of his delivery startling her. As she realized that he was just playing, he suddenly grinned and grabbed her by the hand. He broke into a run, picking up the package of muffins from the floor smoothly as he led her to the bedroom.

Glad she was getting the results she wanted, she gasped, “I have condoms.”

Jaime put the muffins on the dresser and turned to her with a chuckle. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I’m not going to fuck you. But I’m not going to turn down another taste of your pussy.” As he spoke, felt for the zipper of her skirt, found it and pulled it down. His chuckle became a laugh as her mouth dropped open, staring at her skirt now at her ankles.

“B-but, Jaime!” She pointed out, her eyes falling on the very promising tent in his pants. “You’re hard.”

“Later,” he said, pulling her by the hand again before tossing her quite unceremoniously on his bed. His smile was positively devilish as she fell on her butt, her legs spreading. “Right now, I’m gonna have this very succulent treat.”

She squealed as his mouth fell right on her cunt, his arms spreading her legs impossibly wide open. She squirmed and panted, blushing hard at his loud, wet laps up and down her slit. The tip of his tongue parted her outer labia before sliding toward her fattening clit to suck hungrily on it. As his kiss tore another cry from her, his fingers got to work, fucking her pussy with furious, merciless strokes.

She tried to turn away, not out of refusal but because she felt on fire. Her hands grasped at the sheet, crumpling it, tearing it from under the mattress. Through dazed eyes, she watched his golden head moving up and down her pussy, feeling herself melt with every thrust of his fingers and swipe of his tongue. His name was repeated, breathless chirps, interspersed with, “Gods!” and “Fuck!”

No man had been this hungry for her before—or ate her out as Jaime had. He would know how to kiss and touch her down there because of his job but there was nothing clinical about what he was doing. His eyes were dark with passion and the tightness of his jaw told her he too was overwhelmed with emotions.

She screamed his name, her hips lurching sharply against his face as she came. He didn’t slow down or ease in any way. No. As she felt herself tossed and played through her orgasms, he sucked her clit as if pull it off her and his two fingers sank completely in her pussy. Trembling from the force of her release, she could only lie limply on the bed, whining in protest as he raised his head and gently pulled his fingers out. He collapsed right next to her, licking his lips.

“Sweetest pussy in the country,” he declared, making her blush and push her face against his shoulder.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her arm wrapping around his waist. To her surprise, he took her hand and kissed it tenderly. They looked at each other, their faces flushed from the bliss of their encounter.

“You can try,” he said, holding her hand to his heart.

Though she was still seeing a gold haze on everything, she murmured, “My turn.”

Jaime grinned as she removed her jacket and cami. He put his hands under his head as she worked on his belt and unzipped his pants.

“A naked wench for breakfast,” he mused. “I think it’s my new favorite.”

“Wench? Where are you from, the medieval period?” She retorted, licking her lips as she pushed the pants off. He wore white boxer briefs. The cutest thing a man could wear, she thought as it was removed next.

Well, his underwear must have some impressive fabric technology concealing the monster that was his cock.

“Oh, gods,” she said, blinking at it and rubbing her eyes before turning back to Jaime. _“Wow.”_

“It bodes well for me that my size doesn’t scare you.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the huge, erect cock before her. Well, it clearly wasn’t only the Seven that created this. They had help too. At least a couple.

Jaime Lannister’s cock was the biggest she had seen.

Thrusting toward her, it was a very long and very thick column that was nevertheless elegant and pink. Smooth and—she took a whiff—smelled really, really good. It ended with what was probably the most perfectly round, plump tip. Looking in the eyes of the wonder, she slowly opened her mouth to wrap it around the head.

She made sure to show him the glide of her pink tongue on the slit of the head, dragging the dot of pre-cum into her mouth with exquisite slowness. As the slight salt of him filled her, her lips returned around his head to suck, sliding up and down, working her way up the length of him. Gods, she hoped to have all of him in her mouth.

Though her pussy was still wet, it began to drip as she wondered what it would be like to have his beautiful monster cock fucking her throat.

Seeing his eyes close and the veins in his neck stand out as she kissed and licked her way up were all the encouragement she needed. The rapture on his face made him even more beautiful, so she increased the frequency of her licks, sucked him even more loudly. While her mouth was busy, her hands joined in the effort too. Playing with his plump, heavy balls, stroking him, rubbing him. Though she wish he had taken off his shirt, his obvious pleasure made up for it. Plus, she liked how his fingers pushed through her short hair to grip her head.

He had taken her with breath-taking roughness. She did the opposite with him, taking her time to lick, catching his soft, desirous gaze before planting more kisses around his thick, muscular thighs, back on his cock. She nuzzled her nose against the springy, golden curls surrounding his cock, making him groan and sigh her name. Then, when he was murmuring incoherently and thrusting against her face, she opened her mouth again and took him inside.

Supporting herself on spread palms next to his thighs, her mouth went up and down his cock, the pace increasing with the ease of a sure, steady climb. Her eyes sparkled as she heard the definite rip of the expensive bedspread, and she snuck a glance toward his stomach. The muscles were bunched and tensed, and when she looked at his face, he rewarded her with an expression caught between heaven and hell.

“Brienne,” he groaned huskily, trying to reach for her. She gave him her hand and he pushed his fingers between her arcs. She held him. “I’m close.”

She hummed in approval, tightening her mouth around him.

_“Seven hells, Brienne.”_

The first burst of his come startled her but not enough for her mouth to suddenly leave him. Still holding hands, while her other hand remained around his cock, she pumped him, moaning and closing her eyes as he filled her mouth. She swallowed furiously, as fast as she could but he was relentless in pumping against her face. Surrendering to the sensation of his cock sliding against her tongue, his semen filling her throat, she moaned. Her hips rolled to ease the tension gripping her pussy, feeling herself clench and tighten remembering him huge and fucking her without mercy.

Jaime groaned as his hips rose against her for the last time before lowering back on the bed. Her mouth still latched, she once again took her time in sliding it off him, lingering on the texture and taste of him, thrusting her tongue against his head before releasing him with a soft pop. Rising on her knees, she blushed as he gave her a dazed smile.

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and let him pull her down on the bed. Half-lying against him with her leg flung across his thighs and his spent cock resting between their bodies, they looked at each other.

“Some breakfast,” he remarked, holding her.

“Hmm.” She agreed dreamily before dropping her head on his chest.

“You know, I made frittata. Spinach and mushroom. I also cooked bacon. Extra-crispy.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“Well, I thought it was until you served me your pussy.”

_“Jaime!”_

“What?” He said, his expression exaggeratedly innocent as she shook her head at him. “Brienne, when you show up at a guy’s place without panties, it’s like a surprise lottery win. And I’m not talking about a measly thousand. Mega bucks, Brie.”

She was the color of beets but smiling. “So, this not wearing underwear thing,” he continued conversationally. “Is it a regular thing or just this morning?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she remarked, hoping she at least sounded coy. Or seductive. Post-coitus conversation was not her strongest suit at all.

“As a gynecologist—”

“Really? You have a gynecological take on it?”

“Of course, I do.” He said, giving her butt a playful slap that had her blushing again. “As sexy as it is, it can really harm your pussy if you skip underwear. Or if you wear anything binding. It can lead to irritations, infections. So that means,” he added with a pout, “no fucking.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. He grinned. “But seriously. Skip the underwear if you want but know the risks. And when you wear one, stick to cotton.”

“Oh, really? Because satin is so tacky?”

“Well, for one, I like cotton. And two, it’s the best for your pussy. Lets you breathe.”

“Cotton underwear next time, check. Jaime?”

“Yeah?”

“So. .  .we’re really going to wait?”

“Yeah. Hey, it’s hard for me too.” He glanced at himself. “Not just literally. I’ve fucked you and really want to fuck you a lot. But I also want to get to know you.”

“I want to fuck you too,” she admitted, her cheeks burning as he grinned. “You should know it means a lot to me that you want us to take it slow. Even if it’s just for a few days. I think you’re great and want to get to know you too.”

“Glad to hear it. But don’t stop trying to change my mind.” He kissed her on the lips.

“Okay,” she said, kissing him back.

“Breakfast?”

“Oh, yes. And I brought muffins.”

Jaime startled her by cupping her possessively between the legs. His eyes bright with mischief, he said, “But I’m happy with this muffin, wench.”

“Gods, Jaime. I don’t know which is worse. Being called a wench or you calling my— _that_.” She sputtered, turning a vivid shade of scarlet.

He kissed her again. “I love how you can still blush after having my tongue in you.”

She would protest but found her mouth devoured in another kiss. She moaned, letting him bury his tongue in her mouth as a finger fucked her pussy. Then he freed her lips, covering her throat with little kisses before claiming a nipple. As he pulled the swollen nub between his teeth, another finger pushed inside her pussy.

_"Oh, Jaime."_

It was almost as good as real fucking.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for plot, please check out the tags again. This is porn and maybe just absolute filth.
> 
> If you like it, you're welcome! :-)

“I’ll give you a hundred dragons to ignore whatever sound or thing you’ll see from the back,” Jaime told the driver as he and Brienne climbed in the backseat of a cab later. “And I assure you nothing illegal will be happening, and done with the full consent of my friend.”

Brienne felt the burn of anticipation sweep through her at his words. With her eyes huge and her mouth heading for the floor, the driver glanced at them, shrugged and declared, “Done.”

“What are you going to do?” She managed to whisper at Jaime as the car lurched forward and into the traffic. His eyes twinkled up with mischief before catching her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. Moaning huskily, she threw her arms around his shoulders.

He tasted of toothpaste, minty and fresh. As he licked her lower lip, he reached between them to squeeze her breast. She gasped. “Jaime.” Then looked worriedly at the driver.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, kneading her breast through the top. She blushed, realizing that she was practically draped over him, her leg on his knee and her skirt hiked high on her thigh.

She should tell him to stop. Human decency should not have them engaging in this behavior in the first place, not to mention what a possible arrest could do to their jobs. But her head was thick with the scent of him and the taste of his toothpaste and semen were still in her mouth, at the back of her throat. Being kissed and held by Jaime felt like taking a good, hard hit of one hell of a drug and she couldn’t get enough.

“N-no,” she said, her voice trembling from lust. She clutched at the collar of his shirt desperately before mashing her mouth against him. He groaned and tightened his hold on her, a hand slipping between her thighs still slick with her come from earlier.

 _“Yes,”_ he whispered, his fingers brushing against the curls of her pussy. Her mouth fell open, releasing harsh, pitched pants as he started fucking her with them. Gods. _The man knew what to do._

They kissed and fondled each other for the entire twenty-minute drive. Jaime would leave her mouth, so she could catch her breath, only for her to take a huge lungful as he helped himself to her nipples. Still red and tight from their encounter and with his lips sucking them with furious hunger, she squealed, the force of her release driving her body to shake with violence, her thighs clamping around his hand. Her eyes were big as they darted towards the driver, who mercifully kept his attention only on the road. As the tremors softened, Jaime’s mouth slanted over hers, distracting her. She kissed him back, her thighs falling open now that she was limp. It was at that moment that he started plucking at her clitoris still swollen and sensitive. His mouth muffled her wail of indignation, the sensation so sharp it bordered on glorious, white-hot pain. She pushed against him, not to put a stop to the fury of his fingers fucking her pussy but because it was too much, she felt like she might burst. She bucked and gasped, her feet arching sharply, knocking her shoes to the floor.

“Jaime,” she managed to whimper through their kiss. Her hips thrust against his relentless fingers. “Jaime. Jaime.”

Her hand tried to slide toward his cock and he ripped his mouth off her, growling, “Only you for now, sweetheart.” He pulled his fingers out of her pussy to stop her hand’s descent. As she whined in protest, he panted, his expression tortured, “Don’t worry. I’ll fuck your mouth soon.”

Then his fingers were back inside her, filling the cab with the wet sound of her pussy swallowing them. Eagerness at having him pounding in her throat again caused her pussy to spill on his palm. “Seven hells,” he gasped. “You’re a woman made to be fucked, Brienne. Where have you been all my life? All I should do is fuck you.”

“Then stop waiting,” she begged, riding his fingers fast and hard. He groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder, fucking her still. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Jaime.”

“When you get my cock, I promise you won’t be leaving the bed.” He vowed.

“I look forward to it,” she grunted.

She came for the second time, panting hotly against his mouth. Pink mantled her cheeks through her crash, as well as his dazed but intent gaze on her. When she collapsed against the seat, she expected him to remove his fingers from her pussy. Instead, they remained inside her. He even bent his head to briefly mouth one her peaked, swollen nipples.

Through bleary eyes, she spotted the familiar landmarks and buildings leading to her place of work. “I should—I should fix myself,” she murmured, trying to sit up but finding her spine too happy to remain slumped against the seat.

“Stay like this until you must go,” he requested, flattening his palm against her pussy to make his intention clear. “You look fucking great.”

“I’m in public and practically naked,” she pointed out, finally able to sit up. She laughed softly as he sighed with apparent great disappointment and pulled his fingers out. She cocked an eyebrow at him as she lowered the edge of her top toward her waist. It had been gathered around her neck.

“You could help, you know,” she muttered, blushing red when she saw that her nipples, still slick with his saliva were not only tight against the cloth but had wetted it. There was no mistaking the two very prominent dots. She yanked at her jacket closed and struggled righting her skirt.

“I should,” he agreed, obviously in approval of her disheveled state. “But it’s so much better seeing you annoyed and messy because of me.”

“Asshole.” Her pussy was sweetly tender and her thighs were wet. It was going to be hell sitting down. As she buttoned her jacket, she glanced at his crotch. There was no mistaking the bulge straining against his light gray pants. “You deserve that, you know.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I sure do. Punishment for not being able to keep my hands off you.”

“Just your hands?”

He grinned.

She rolled her eyes and got her bag. As she did, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thanks for the awesome morning, wench.”

“Wench? Really?” She retorted but wishing she didn’t take pleasure at it.

“It suits you. It’s going to be my personal nickname for you, Brienne.”

“Well, I don’t do nicknames. I require to be at least fucked extremely well before allowing such liberties.” She said, making him laugh. She blushed as he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

“I don’t want to just give you the fuck of your dreams, Brienne.”

“Seriously, how can you be so maddeningly vulgar and romantic at the same time?”

He pretended to shrug before smiling at her. “Come on. At least let me walk you to the door. Could you wait?” This he asked the driver.

“You still haven’t paid me,” the driver reminded him.

“Oh, gods.” Brienne groaned, hiding her face and remembering there was another person in the car. She hadn’t been whispering.

Jaime opened the door, took her hand again and she went out after him. Catching her fidgeting with her clothes and patting her rumpled hair flat self-consciously, he said, “Relax, Brie. You look fine. Aside from that lovely blush, you don’t look like your gynecologist just had his fingers in your beautiful pussy.”

“You are not my gynecologist,” she said, giving him a playful slap on the chest. He chuckled and put his arms around her waist.

Her co-workers would definitely see them. Her heart raced and she tried to look around. No man had brought her to work before. None of her exes had. This was all new. A kind of fresh start but with lots of parts that felt very familiar. As she looked at Jaime, he bopped his forehead gently against hers.

“I have a surgery tonight. Are you free tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, wondering if more of the same awaited her. Squeezing her thighs together, she stammered, “Um, uh, it, erm, depends, I guess?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re asking if I’m free tomorrow to help you with cleaning, then I’m not. But if you mean dinner, a movie or something that doesn’t involve cleaning supplies or a dead body, then I might be.”

“There’s an exhibit at the Westeros War Museum devoted to espionage. If you want, we can see it and then we can go for the juiciest burgers afterwards. They’re not your typical, limp, greasy sandwiches, wench. Boar meat burger.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Interested?”

“Sounds like fun. But is that what you would like to do? We can just go to a movie?” She suggested. It was nice that he was looking for activities that might interest her but she wanted them to do something that might be more aligned to his interest too. But what could a gynecologist be into? She remembered he liked chess, classic war movies and punk rock. There might be a retrospective one of these days.

“I don’t mind the museum. It looks cool, actually.”

“Then I’m free,” she replied.

He kissed her again and felt herself tingle from head to toe. “Great.”

“Jaime?” She asked as he nibbled on her lips. “You mentioned a surgery?”

“Yeah. An endometrial ablation,” he said. Seeing her curious, he added, “It’s done to reduce very heavy menstrual bleeding. My patient’s periods have become so heavy after giving birth. She’s been missing work and basically, a normal life.”

“So, the procedure will help her get back to it?”

“Yeah. But she can’t have any children after it. It’s not the kind of procedure you decide on lightly. She’s young, only twenty-seven. The procedure might lessen the bleeding or stop it altogether. It will also remove the endometrial lining. That’s where the fertilized egg goes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She didn’t know the woman but felt bad for her. There was comfort in already having had a child and the relief the procedure promised. But it was still unfair for the choice to have another taken away like that.

“Yeah. It’s a difficult decision but she’s sometimes in bed just bleeding for two weeks. She really can’t function and the stress is not helping her. She’s tried everything to regulate her period but none are working. This is the last one. We hope it works.”

His concern for the woman brought her hand to his cheek. He cradled it there.

“Well, if she’s made the decision. . .let’s hope everything turns out for the best.”

“That’s the hope, wench. Say, why don’t I call you later, after it’s done?”

“Sure. I look forward to it. Good luck, okay?”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Take care of yourself. And stick to cotton panties should you decide to remedy the underwear situation, wench.”

He laughed as she turned violently red, looking around if they were overheard. “Jaime!”

“I was speaking as a gynecologist, Brie.”

“Speaking as a professional, my ass. Do you think I should remedy the situation in the, I don’t know, direction of wearing a pair?” She could play this game.

He looked between her thighs pointedly, his emerald eyes burning. Up they trailed toward her stomach, lingering on her tits, her mouth, before resting on her eyes. “Well, as the man who would like to fuck you for days, I’d rather you ditch the panties. Cumbersome, really. Gets in the way of wanting to finger you anytime.” Smirking at her blush, he continued, “ But as a doctor, that outrageously sexy option can do you more harm than good. I get that it’s comfortable. I get that it’s liberating. But if you tend to sit  on surfaces and you’re not sure how clean they are and you don’t have panties, it might lead to some infections. As someone who’s professionally and personally invested in your pussy, wench, I’d like for you to be comfortable but not put yourself at risk.” He put his hands in his packets, causing his pants to stretch across his erection. He smiled innocently. “For both our sakes.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You enjoy doing this, don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t, but yes, I do. Very much. Because it’s you.”

Well, how can a sane woman be annoyed when someone says something like that to you? Jaime surprised her by suddenly taking her hand and pressing a gentlemanly kiss there.

“May I call you later, my lady?”

“Jaime, given what we’ve done, I don’t think you should be calling me that.” She said, blinking at him rapidly. Seven, but looking at him was much like looking right at the sun.

“Maybe, but though you have the sexiest, filthiest grunts, you are still one to me.”

“Well, if you put it like that. . .” Pretending to think of it seriously, she gave a cool nod before giving him a shy smile. “You may,  good ser.”

 

Calls were exchanged and they saw more of each other in the coming days. He did take her to the espionage exhibit and the wild board burger they had afterwards was so fucking excellent she declared it was the best thing ever put in her mouth. He countered that maybe she should re-think being that it had been a day since she had his cock.

Jaime had no qualms about pawing and fondling her in public. In a nearly-deserted secondhand bookstore, he slipped a hand under her sweater and played with her nipples, nibbling on her neck as she protested weakly that it wasn’t proper. When they took the subway together, she got the shock of her life when, while standing behind her, he lifted her skirt and started fucking her pussy with his finger. She nearly tore off the overhead grips.

She took him to an all-night marathon showing of the movie series the War of the Five Kings. Riveted by the scenes of the classic war movie on the screen, he only held her hand for the entire screening. It was nice, but it was much nicer when he dragged her behind the theater’s alley afterward. There, he unzipped her jeans and tongued her pussy until she was gasping and barely keeping upright. She took him to her apartment for the first time that night, and, with a flash of her sapphire eyes, shoved him to the couch and unzipped his jeans.

Because of his shouts and the lamp and picture frames he knocked off during the frenzy of his release, her next-door neighbor called the cops. The officer, a tall, muscular man with vivid ginger hair and very bright green eyes, refused to leave despite their assurances neither was harmed. He glared at Jaime but would give Brienne a small smile while assuring her that she was safe as long as he was around.

“Tell me the truth, lass,” he pressed her. “If this schmuck hurt you I’ll take you away. You only have to say the word.”

“I’m telling you, uh, Officer—” Brienne squinted at his uniform, trying to see if his name was there.

“The name’s Giantsbane, miss. Tormund Giantsbane.”

“Well, Officer Giantsbane, the only thing that didn’t survive was a fucking lamp. As we’ve been telling you, I knocked it off by accident. We were, uh,” Jaime suddenly flushed and cleared his throat. “We were playing. . .uh, cards, and I don’t like to lose.”

“So, you took it out on a lamp?” Officer Giantsbane demanded.

“It’s an old lamp,” Brienne clarified. “I got it for half a stag in a garage sale.”

“Your boyfriend seems to have violent tendencies.” He told her.

“What? Just because he destroyed a lamp because he didn’t. . .uh. . .win?” Brienne was blushing at what Jaime had been called. They hung out and had fun with each other, and every date revealed something more interesting in the person, no matter how silly. For example, she thought it was cute that Jaime’s movie marathon staple were red gummy bears. But. .boyfriend? She hoped that didn't make things awkward.

“You’re playing cards at two in the morning?”

“Alright, alright. Brie, let’s just be honest about this?” And before Brienne could stop him, Jaime blurted out, “My girlfriend’s mouth is Seven Heavens, Officer Giantsbane. Have you ever put your cock in a vacuum cleaner? The tube? It’s alright. I’m a doctor. I won’t judge. Anyway, if you know how that feels, Brienne sucks my cock with, like, at least three times the force—”

Mortified, Brienne shrieked, _“Jaime!”_

“No, no. He clearly doesn’t believe us. It’s late and what enjoyment I had from fucking your throat is being killed by this guy.” Jaime insisted, sounding annoyed. He crossed his arms and glared at the cop. “Brienne swallows. You know how most women would gag and have to be warned you’re coming? Well, she likes the mess of it—”

“Jaime, oh, gods, stop!” She wailed but he kept talking.

“So the reason stuff was getting knocked off and why there were shouts is because I was getting best fucking blow job of my life and you’re this close—” he said, indicating with a tiny space between thumb and forefinger—“to ruining it.”

“Ignore him. It’s the truth but please, please ignore him. Don’t put it in your report!” Brienne pleaded with Officer Giantsbane, noticing his pencil poised over a notepad. She slammed a hand over Jaime’s mouth and glared at him. “Shut up.”

“I’ll put it under domestic disturbance, I guess---”

 _“What?”_ Jaime squawked while Brienne’s hand fell from him in shock.

“Domestic disturbance? He wasn’t hurting me! I wasn’t hurting him—Jaime, did I bite you?” Brienne asked, suddenly concerned that she must have hurt him and didn’t notice in her enthusiasm.

He patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, wench. You put professionals to shame.” As she blushed wildly, he addressed the officer, “Look, clearly there’s no disturbance, no one was hurt. Can’t you just not report it? You’re not helping yourself making a big deal of my getting one hell of a blow job. I mean, yeah. It’s big fucking deal but you really think it belongs on a police report?”

Officer Giantsbane sighed loudly. “Alright. This is what I’ll do. I’ll say it was all a misunderstanding. An overly concerned neighbor called and turns out it’s just adults playing cards. But next time, Mr. Lannister,” he said, checking his notebook for Jaime’s name, “Try to be more quiet. I also caution about being very verbose about what your girlfriend does.”

“I’m not embarrassed that her mouth can possibly rip my cock from me. How many men can brag about that?” Jaime said before Brienne kicked him on the shin. _“Ow!”_

“Well, don’t push your luck, is all I can say. Miss Tarth,” The cop tipped his hat at her, grinning. “Good luck. Specially with this one.”

Brienne nodded and closed the door. She narrowed her eyes at Jaime, saying exasperatedly, “You really love being descriptive, why don’t you?”

“Sorry about that.” Jaime did look contrite. “But he wasn’t going to leave. And he was checking you out.”

“What?” She exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous. You’re imagining things.”

Jaime smirked. “Wench, your hair’s all messy from my hands, your mouth is still swollen from my cock. No man is not going to want you looking the way you do.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she declared, tipping her head to the side as if trying to decide what to make of him. She wished she could be annoyed with what he had done but there was something about Jaime and his graphic descriptions of what they did that was. . .well, funny. And sweet. Adorable, even. She knew he didn’t say them to embarrass her, although he did make people very uncomfortable.

But that was the thing with Jaime. He made no excuses or apologies for doing the things he did, even more the ones he enjoyed. He was a guy with no pretensions yet there was something about him that hinted at something deeper. She would see traces of it when he talked about his work. There was genuine concern for his patients. He understood the pain they went through, even if it wasn’t something he could completely fathom due to his gender. This was a man who listened and listened well and sought to find the best solution for a cure.

“What it is, sweetheart, is it’s ridiculously late,” he said, glancing at his watch. He put his arms around her waist while pulling her from the door. Kissing her softly, he murmured, “I should go.”

“Must you, really?” She complained, hugging him. “It is late, as you said. Can’t you. . .” she bit her lip, suddenly hesitant.

“Tell me,” he urged, seeing the doubt flicker in her eyes.

She took a deep breath and looked at him right in the eye. “S-Stay with me, Jaime. I mean. . .if you feel it’s better to sleep on the couch then okay, I won’t force you. But if you can stay. . .?”

“You want me to stay?” he asked.

“Have you been counting the days?” She blushed as she spoke. “I am. T-today is. . .well, today’s the day we finally get to fuck.”

As soon as she finished, she pressed her hot face against his shoulder. “I mean, if you’ve forgotten, maybe you need reminding---”

“Of course, I haven’t. And I have been counting,” he said, holding her and caressing her hair, the back of her shoulder. She shivered as he kissed her on the temple. “Do you have any idea how often I’ve been jerking off in the shower because I can’t fuck you yet?”

“Err. . .Jaime, maybe that’s something I need not know,” she said, pulling away a little so she could smile at him. “Althought. . .thanks, I guess?”

“Brienne, if I stay, I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

“You promise?”

“Hells, yeah. Unless you’d like us to squeeze in like hedgehogs. In that case, I’m game. I want to sleep with you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you. I want my hand on your pussy when you sleep. I want you to wake up with my fingers fucking you already.”

 _“Jaime.”_ She moaned, once again falling hard against his shoulder. He held her firmly, caressing her back, her waist, his lips moving against her hair as he spoke.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you. No idea.”

“Show me, then,” she begged, clinging to him, crushing his shirt in her fists. She pressed her hips against him and they groaned at finding him hard. She palmed his cock and whispered in his ear, “Fuck me, Jaime. Fuck me. _Please_.”

Suddenly, her feet left the floor and she was swept up in his arms. She quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He grinned at her startled stare. “J-Jaime?”

“Where’s the bedroom, wench?”  


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut time, good people. :-)

With the streetlamp outside guiding their way, Jaime easily found the bed and tossed Brienne on it. He jumped in beside her gasping and laughing body, catching her chin in his hand to plant a yearning kiss on the mouth. Her enthusiasm was an equal match, sliding her tongue in his mouth as she slipped hands under his shirt to discover firm, bunched muscles on his back, his chest. He gasped against her mouth as she lightly pinched his nipple. “Where’s the light?”

“What for?’ She whispered, flattening him on the bed with her palm. Grinning, she nipped at his parted lips, pushing at his shirt until it gathered at his neck. She nuzzled her nose, her cheek, against his trimmed beard. Gods. The man smelled like he just stepped out of a lemony bath. As she pressed her face against the fur on his chest, she added, “Isn’t the dark romantic?”

She hummed in delight as he tensed under her lips and hands. Kissing his defined, hard pecs, enjoying how his legs thrashed under hers, his erection brushing against her thigh to draw another gasp from him and a soft moan from her. She was glad that the dark hid the vivid flare in her cheeks upon feeling her pussy swell and wet her panties, her jeans. _Seven Hells._

“Not for me, sweetheart,” Jaime grunted, fingers pushing her hair to gently pull her face away from his chest. Then her mouth was back on him, and his tongue was thrusting deep inside. The mattress dipped under their combined weight on one spot. Caressing her back, cupping her ass, he continued, “Don’t you know by now how much I love watching you come? How you look when _I_ make you come?”

Without waiting for her answer, he turned slightly to flick on the lamp on the nightstand, turned again to the same to the other. Brienne sat up on her knees, wondering why Jaime Lannister looked so right lounging against the padded headboard of her bed, his long, muscular arms spread over the pillows. His golden hair was a tousled halo around his head as he smiled at her, just killing her with his dimples.

“Get over here, wench,” his voice affectionate and his gaze smoldering emeralds. He sat up, patting his lap. She bit her lip and climbed on, putting her leg carefully over his thigh before lowering her hips toward him. “I’m not glass, Brienne,” he said, laughing.

“I’m not too heavy for you?” She asked, hesitant to fully rest her entire weight on him. She was taller by an inch and a half and at least fifteen pounds heavier. Her size had always been a problem. Too much of everything. It wasn’t something she thought about a lot, these days. Not since knowing Jaime.

“Sweetheart, if you’re weightless, you’re nothing. I like that I can _feel_ you.” With that, he set her down firmly on top of him, smirking when her mouth fell open at the bulge of his cock between their clothed bodies. He grunted softly too but shook his head when she started to shift up, thinking she had crushed him. Hands on her waist, he leaned up and nibbled on her lower lip.

“You feel gorgeous, Brienne.” He said, holding her gaze while brushing his knuckles on her warm, pink cheek.

No one had said she felt anything close to gorgeous before. As she stared at him in quiet wonder, he kissed her. This time it was gentle, sweet, driving every uncertainty she had carried her whole life away with every glide of lips and tongue on her. As he drew her closer, hands slipped under her shirt to caress the naked span of her back, traveling to her front to cup small, plump tits.

She raised her arms, and he pulled the rest of her shirt up. A blush covered her all the way to her chest, emphasizing the blotch of her freckles on pale skin. But Jaime looked at her as if she were one luscious dessert and something unbelievable made real. Feeling a return of her confidence, she leaned in to kiss him, taking his face between her hands.

Lips remaining stubbornly and hotly fused, they curved down to the bed, Jaime moving swiftly so he was right on top of her. His thumbs teased her nipples to a tautness that drew a sharp breath from her. Through half-closed eyes, she watched his golden head move down her neck, feeling his lips wrap around skin and suck, his tongue tasting the warmth of her towards her collarbones. By the time his mouth closed around a pink nipple, she was tauter than a bowstring.

They were going to fuck, _finally._ The wait had been painfully, extraordinarily long. Their kisses and fondles, the public pawings of body parts hidden in clothes, were a heady, breathtaking rush. It was like taking one hard hit after the next of a powerful drug. Though it was only mere minutes, the feelings aroused by their encounters lingered throughout the day, or days. _Days_. Days of longing for Jaime, to feel him chuckling against her throat, the hard warmth of his body, his eyes, looking at her. Really seeing her.

But those moments were quick, their passion blazing like sudden wildfire. Tonight, Jaime was clearly taking his time. Stoking her with deep pulls of her nipple in his mouth, hands carefully mapping her body. As she writhed and squirmed, blushing some more from his noisy, wet kisses, he made her burn harder as his lips traveled down to her stomach. She spread her legs, raised her hips expectantly.

He smiled up at her. “Wench.”

“Let’s get this off you,” she said, reaching for his shirt. She tugged at the bottom and he took the rest over his head. She sat up, her eyes glowing an intense, midnight blue at the sight of his bare chest and the golden fur that had become so familiar yet still new with every slide of her palm. She did this now, feeling the leap in his heart. Surprised, she looked at his face.

“Keep going,” he urged her, his emerald eyes looking a little glazed over. “It feels good.”

Encouraged, she ran her palm lower to his chest, toward his belt. She had touched him before. She had his cock in her mouth more than a few times. Yet just touching him like this. . .there was something revolutionary about it. Minus the rush (which was _mind-blowing_ ), there was time to really feel _everything._

Returning her gaze to Jaime’s eyes, she only had to press a little to urge him back on the bed. He lay down obediently, a half-smirk on his face. But she swung her legs to the side of the bed to stand up and get rid of her pants. When she turned around, Jaime was on his side, jaw resting on his chin and a very pleased expression on his face. She met his admiring gaze, slipping into the now-familiar feel of pride in her small tits, straight waist, thick, trunk-like thighs and her gleaming, very hairy bush.

“Fantastic,” he murmured, making her smile and blush. She joined him back in bed to work on his jeans next. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the wrist.

He smiled at her startled expression. “Turn the other way, sweetheart.”

Puzzled, she asked, “You mean, come from the other side? Like, the other side?” She pointed on the other side of the bed to be sure.

He looked like he wanted to gobble her up. “No. Not from that side. I want to taste you.”

“But—But—I thought we’re going to fuck—”

“We are. We will. My cock intends to live in your pussy until the morning, Brienne. Best I ready you. And if you have lube, even better.”

She blushed a deep scarlet. His grin nearly split his face in half. “Ah. You are the wench of my dreams, indeed, Brienne Tarth. Speaking as a gynecologist—”

“Really?’ She said drily. “You have to start with that to give a lecture on lube?”

“Well, it never hurts to hear the side of the professional rather than some guy who likes to keep you wet.”

She laughed and kissed him on the lips. “Gods. You _are_ a weirdo. But the hottest weirdo in the entire city block.”

He kissed her back, chuckling as he sucked on her plump lip. “Seriously, lube isn’t just for anal sex. We’ve pretty much established that you’ve got one very wet honeypot, Brienne,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, openly delighted as her blush turned deeper. “But you’re not wet all the time. I also don’t want to risk hurting you.”

“Like I said. Thank goodness you’re hot, Dr. Lannister.” She teased, licking the tip of his nose. He chuckled and pretended to bite her. She squealed, moving her neck out of the way. Pressing his nose against her pulse, he whispered, “So, how about it, wench?”

“The lube or. . .um. . .the requested position?” She asked.

“Both, but the latter first,” he whispered back.

She took a deep breath, gave a little nod and turned. Jaime lowered his head back on the pillows, guiding her legs to surround his shoulders. She trembled upon feeling his breath stir the curls on her pussy. He caressed the back of her thighs, her buttocks, as if to reassure her. She felt reassured, enabling her to focus on the zipper below her and the huge bulge under it. Feeling him press kisses on her thighs that made her tensed and tingle, she carefully took the tab and pulled.

She had to rise a little to push off his pants, licking her lips once his cock was free. He kicked his pants out of the way and she helped him with his socks. He squealed when she tickled the arch of his foot before covering him with kisses starting from the ankles all the way up. Jaime had very sexy knees.

He grunted against her pussy as she rubbed her lips against the top of his hairy thigh, licking him shyly, too briefly, before turning to the other and repeat.

She moaned against his thigh as his finger slowly entered her. Quickly, her thighs tightened around it, forgetting his head between them. He laughed, pushing them apart. Pink and feeling warmer as if sunk in a fever, she kissed his left inner thigh, grazing her teeth gently at the taut muscle. Her lips were advancing toward his cock when she felt his fingers sweep her pussy lips open, followed by the thrust of his tongue.

Her entire body shook. Sweat poured down the sides of her face. _“Jaime.”_

She squirmed against his tongue, fighting from squeezing his head between her thighs again. After allowing herself to submerge in the pleasure of his carnal kiss, she gazed at his cock. It was beautiful, like him, and packed with strength yet elegant rather than crude. She nuzzled her nose against his golden curls, her head swimming from the intimate scent of dark sweat and man before closing her mouth around the head.

His tongue thrust faster in her pussy. Quick, devasting dips in her wet channel.

As her honey dripped toward his tongue, she felt him get harder, fuller, with every slow, indulgent slide of her mouth and tongue. She squeezed and played with his plump balls, making him stop for a moment to gasp against her pussy before gripping her hips harder and surprising her with a hard suck of her clit. Her wail caused his cock to pop out of her mouth, feeling herself kissed by fire with every drag of his mouth and flick of his tongue on her clit.

“Jaime,” she begged throatily. Her hips rolled wildly. _“Oh, gods.”_

“Turn over,” he grunted. She couldn’t believe it. He was stopping?

Feeling her stiffen with resistance, he slapped her playfully on the ass. “I want you to come around my cock, Brienne. _Please._ ” The mirth in his tone melted into desperation at the last word.

When he spoke like that, she was nothing. _Just nothing._ She quickly rolled away from him, panting, caught in that hot in-between. “Condoms?” He asked, and she pointed at the drawer. She licked her lips when he turned, showing her the firm, high cheeks of his ass as he went to get them from the drawer. When he faced her a moment later, she was still grinning.

“What’s got you looking like the cat who got all the cream, sweetheart?” He teased, taking a few packets of the condoms with him as he moved between her legs.

Emboldened by desire, she said simply, “You have a cute ass.”

“Yeah?” It was sweet how sincerely delighted he looked at her compliment. He tore a square with his teeth and flicked the wrapping away. She watched him start sliding on the rubber and he flushed.

“This is awkward,” he admitted.

“I’m still not going to turn away,” she whispered, and there was that look of delight again.

“Just for that, wench, I’m going to let you put whatever you want on my ass and lick it,” he said, stretching over her. He smiled as her arms went around his shoulders.

“Whatever I want?” She asked, arching gently against him as he rubbed his cock against her kiss-swollen clit. Her mouth fell open.

“Yeah,” he grunted, raking his teeth across her jawline. “Maple syrup, whipped cream, honey—”

They groaned loudly as his cock thrust deep into her quick. “I was,” she gasped, a hand clutching at his bearded cheek and looking in his lust-blown eyes. “I thought. . . _hot sauce._ ”

He gasped as her legs went around his waist. “Hot sauce?”

 _“Gods, Jaime.”_ She squeezed her eyes shut from the intensity of their joining before opening her eyes to look at him again. Leaning his forehead against hers, his mouth open and filling her own with his hot breath. He pulled out and thrust back again and she cried out, _“Mayonnaise!”_

 _“What the fuck?”_ He growled, slamming back inside her pussy and making her shriek. His expression tight, he yanked one of her legs over his shoulder, swung his hips out then punched back inside.

_“Jaime.”_

“You’re weird,” he gasped, his thrusts speeding up, as if to wreck her pussy. She pulled at his hair before pushing him down to her for a hot, open-mouthed kiss. He sank fully into her, his cock pressing against her cervix as their tongues tangled and she bit him, dragging his lip between her teeth before pushing her tongue in his mouth. His breath filled her mouth and she deepened their kiss, just as he pushed fully inside her.

The air was hot, and they panted through the rough, almost hip-breaking dance of their bodies. Eyes were dark from the savagery and intensity of their fucking. She squirmed, tightening around his cock, matching the breathtaking pace of his thrusts so perfectly that his eyes rolled to the back of his head before glaring at her, hands suddenly pinning her wrists above her head. Their cries were strangled, rough, seemingly of pain if not for the awesome burn of their pubic hairs tangling, his cock burrowing so deeply into her pussy as if to never leave.

_And she hoped he never will._

Stunned to have such need of him that her next breath depended on it, she begged, “Please. _Jaime._ Kiss me.”

And he did, smiling at her before covering her mouth with his. Her cry at the relief of her release was muffled by his kiss, swallowing her sounds, his tongue settling inside her mouth to feel it tremble and thrust desperately at him. He grunted against her too, his entire body suddenly stiffening before collapsing on top of her.

"Soo worth the fucking wait, Brienne. Damn. Put whatever the fuck you want on my ass. And cock." 

******  
Her body felt drained and bruised even hours later, yet she was on her feet, in the kitchen no less, assembling a fitting meal for the wonderfully strenuous night they just had. She made classic BLT, on a thick but very soft loaf of bread, with a thick layer of melted Swiss cheese. Coffee, hers with milk, his with a teaspoon of sugar, and four pieces of soft-baked chocolate chip cookies were the final touches. She assembled them all on the tray and basically waddled back to her room. A hot bath was in order at some point to ease the stiffness in her hips and the soreness between her thighs.

Jaime was leaving the bathroom when she returned to the bedroom, his face damp from the wash. His golden hair was still tousled, making him look like a lion in play. He grinned at the tray of food she held before relieving her of it.

“Bacon,” he murmured, kissing her on the cheek. “Best fuck of my life and you have bacon. I’d better not be dreaming, wench.”

She chuckled and watched him put it on one of the nightstands, moving about nude like it was no big deal at all. Thinking to match him, she started untying the belt of her robe and slipped off the garment to join him in bed. On her way, she spotted the collection of used condoms on the floor and their packets. Her natural compulsion would be to pick them up but in her bed was a man who did the most wonderful things to her body and caused the oddest stirrings in her heart. Cleaning up could always wait.

Jaime handed her one of the sandwiches before getting one for himself. Taking a bite, she cuddled up to him. They both smelled of sweat and were ickily sticky but neither seemed interested in a shower right now. Just food and each other, she thought, sighing in contentment as he kissed her on the forehead again before biting into his sandwich.

They ate quietly, Jaime amusing her with his exaggerated sounds of pleasure as if he was eating something straight out of a gastronomic paradise. In between bites were kisses, moans. She loved the taste of bacon and cheese on him, licked the breadcrumbs from his lips and kissed them on his beard. She never cared for sweetened coffee but on his lips, his tongue, she was a convert.

Jaime took her half-full mug and returned it to the tray. With a growl of sensual hunger, he tossed her back on the bed and rested his body fully on her. He pinched and pulled at her swollen nipple, watching her bite her lip, feeling her legs thrash softly around him before slanting a kiss on her lips.

She was the one to reach in the drawer this time and put the condom on him, allowing herself a squeeze of his cock just to watch him close his eyes and his head fall back because he was just so beautiful. Then his eyes opened, and she finished, dropping back on the bed and spreading her legs. He gazed at her pussy with something like pure adoration. With his emerald eyes burning through her, he pressed a palm on her left thigh.

“Open some more, sweetheart. Let me see my favorite star.”

She blushed but obeyed him, remembering that this was how he knew it was her on the bed during that emergency. Jaime sighed before taking the tube of lube they started using at some point. She shook and whimpered his name as his fingers applied the slick mixture on her inner labia. Then with just the gentlest nudge, she was open and two fingers were fucking her.

“Fuck me,” she begged, trying to reach for him.

She gasped as he settled between her legs. He took his cock in hand and thrust in her, the wet channel of her pussy easily and eagerly welcoming him. He fucked her slowly, but they still watched each other the entire time. Her fingers fluttered to his cheek and he took her hand to kiss it deeply before draping it on his shoulder. He kissed her on the neck, she bit on his ear, thrust her tongue inside it. He licked her lips and she took his mouth. Her pussy still had that cramped soreness but it sucked his cock greedily, squeezing and tightening around it like a vise. He drank her pitched hiccups and gasps as she came, his own groan filling her mouth.

The fresh bout of sweat and another layer of come over the streaks that had dried and stained their thighs still gave no encouragement for either to seek a shower. They remained in bed facing each other, her leg hooked around his hip and his arm firm on her waist. As she watched the morning light caress his hair and face, she asked, “Why gynecology?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you choose to specialize in it?”

He moved closer to her until the tips of their noses brushed. “Actually, it’s gynecologic oncology.”

“Oncology. . .” She looked thoughtful. “That deals with cancer, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Of the female reproductive system. It’s often rough. You know how cancer is the silent killer, right?”

She nodded.

“Cancers involving the female reproductive system are like masters of silence. If there are hardly any symptoms, the symptoms are usually mistaken for another disease. But more often than not, they’re detected too late. Or even when they are known early enough, these cancers act swiftly.”

“What happens when you tell someone she has cancer?”

“It’s always hell. You’re always the bad guy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she kissed him consolingly on the cheek and hugged him. She was glad when he stayed in her arms. He was always holding her and it felt nice to reciprocate.

“Why did you choose this specialization?”

“You mean why I did not become a dentist?” He said with a smirk. She smiled back and traced his dimple.

“I think the only kind of hell dentists have is an extreme case of halitosis,” she told him. “It’s a tough field, Jaime. And as for hating the guy to give the bad news, I know. My Dad.” At his inquiring look, she added, “My Dad. Lung cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked concerned. “When was this?”

“Five years ago. He never stopped smoking until the last day.” This time, he kissed her. “Thank you.”

“My mom too. And my sister.” He caressed her arm. “Cervical cancer for my Mom. She was only forty-one when she died. Then my sister. The ovaries. I was in medical school already when she was diagnosed.” He looked at her. “I was thinking to go into nuclear medicine when she told the family. We were twins.”

“She was young, Jaime. How old. . .how old was she when she. . .”

“It was quick. She was twenty-eight.”

“I’m so sorry.” She knew firsthand how devastating it could be to witness someone you loved in so much pain and unable to do anything to end it. She grabbed his hand to kiss it. “What’s her name?”

“Cersei. She was beautiful. She had a temper, but her heart was always in the right place.”

He sounded a little choked, so she hugged him again. She would protect him from everything if she could. “Thank you for telling me about her.”  


*****

By noon, the bedroom was beginning to smell very ripe. Jaime and Brienne remained in bed. They fucked twice more before deciding to just laze around on the sticky, stained sheets and tease each other for the interesting odors wafting up from the crevices of their bodies.

At one point, after kissing him down the chest, Brienne lowered her face to his cock and suddenly reared up. “Oh, gods. It smells fucking terrible down there!” She complained, pinching her nose.

“You lie,” he told her, but howling with laughter. “That’s just my natural manly scent, Brienne.”

“If that’s the natural manly scent, cave women had a pretty strong stomach back in the day to help in populating the planet,” she said, lying beside him. Despite what she said, she draped her arm and leg over him, nuzzling his chest and kissing his neck.

“Let’s see if you smell any better then,” he challenged, suddenly pulling up her arm. She squealed as he pressed his nose on her armpit and made a face. “Damn, wench. _That_ can fell horses.”

She pulled her arm back, shaking her head. “No. I happen to smell divine.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see about that.” And he suddenly nudged her legs apart. She laughed, trying to stop him from smelling her pussy but he was surprisingly stronger. They wrestled, yanking the edges of the sheets from under the mattress, sending pillows to the floor.

“Jaime!” She exclaimed when he successfully pushed her legs far apart. But he didn’t kiss her. Instead, his tongue slid up and down her moist folds before thrusting between them. Her sound of protested melted into a coo.

“You smell like me,” he declared between dips of his tongue in her pussy and a brief suck of her clit to get her to cry out. “You taste like a wench who’s been fucked very well.”

 _“Jaime,”_ she panted, trying to touch him.

“You taste fucking fantastic,” he groaned, thumbing her open and sinking his tongue inside her. “Fucking you is Seven Heavens, Brienne, but damn. You taste like _my wench_. Maybe I should just quit my job and fuck you.”

“Ridiculous,” she moaned, arching against him. Because she was still sensitive, she easily came apart, throwing a scream towards the ceiling. She was still high on her orgasm when he suddenly turned her so she was on her stomach. The breath knocked out of her, she stammered, “J-Jaime?”

 _“Brienne,”_ he groaned, taking a playful bite of her hard shoulder before kissing down her spine. Relaxing with every brush on his lips on her back, she smiled, humming in pleasure.

But her ease met a swift end when he started covering the small of her back with kisses. She squealed and giggled, startled at how ticklish she was back. “Stop,” she gasped, clutching at the pillow. “Gods. You’re killing me, Jaime!”

“Good,” he said, his teeth raking down her flesh and towards her ass. Her eyes widened.

“J-Jaime?”

“Hmm.” She blushed violently as he bit and sucked on the firm skin. She was shaking from trying to stop herself from moving because she was even more ticklish there. “Juicy.”

“Stop it, I’m very ticklish!” She exclaimed, hoping to the Seven she didn’t pee on him.

Her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when she felt him sweep her cheeks apart. “Jaime—I’m seriously--- _oh.”_

She squirmed, gasping, laughing as he tongued her rosette. He teased the puckered flesh, making her laugh and cry out more, louder. His name fell as shrieks of shocked admonishment, exasperation, feeble infuriation. She thrashed under him, her pleas for him to stop sounding rather like encouragement. As she turned even more red and buried her nails into the pillow when the tickling sensation intensified, Jaime’s tongue suddenly thrust _inside_.  

  _“Jaime! Stop!”_

Panicked that she was about to wet herself, them, she turned, her arm flying to get him off her. Instead, her elbow encountered his nose, followed by a hard crunching sound. Jaime groaned and fell off the bed.

“Jaime!” She turned, seeing only his feet on the edge of the bed. Crawling towards them, she peered at him. He was on the floor, face twisted in pain and his hands a tight tent on his nose. “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I was really ticklish! Can I get you ice or something?”

He looked at her and removed his hands from his nose. She flinched.  _Blood._

“I think I broke my nose, sweetheart.”


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the most embarrassing thing that can possibly happen when your boyfriend's in the emergency room with a sex-related injury?
> 
> :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some revisions made today.

 

Despite Jaime’s bleeding nose, they still had to wait for their turn for emergency treatment. Brienne’s pleas were interrupted by the nurse, a brunette twit of a thing whose head was too big for the rest of her skinny body. “Your boyfriend’s condition will be assessed. For now, you fill this out,” she said firmly, shoving the clipboard toward Brienne’s nose.

“But he has a broken—”

“I’m sure it’s an emergency. I’m sure.” The nurse said very slowly, as if speaking to someone with a great mental incapacity. Brienne scowled at her. “But we treat people according to the gravity—”

“He works here. He’s doctor—”

“Honey, the more you try convincing me to let you cut in line, the longer your boyfriend will have to wait.” Brienne glared at her nameplate. Talisya Maegyr. Talisa smirked as she took the form and stomped back to the benches where Jaime was waiting.

“You’d think that working in the same hospital would at least help you advance,” she grumbled, sighing roughly. She stared helplessly at Jaime. “How are you feeling?”

After pressing a pack of frozen peas on his nose, they discovered that he was still bleeding. Jaime then instructed her to cut a tampon in half and push the bits up his nostrils as a way of staunching the flow. He thought they should give it more time, but she couldn’t relax. She still felt queasy remembering the unmistakable crunching sound. After putting the tampons up his nose, she insisted to have him examined. Margaery was luckily at home and drove them to Kingsland General.

That was the first and last bit of luck they had. Jaime, being Jaime, had told Margaery how he ended up with the injury.  Margaery had been relentless in teasing them for the entire drive. Brienne would have killed her if she wasn’t too worried and scared for Jaime.

Margaery had yet to come back. She had dropped them off at the emergency entrance to look for a parking spot. Brienne touched Jaime on the knee as she waited for him to answer.

Jaime frowned, as if realizing for the first time that he was out in public with tampons up his nostrils. She was certainly not the reason people were looking, for once. But his face cleared a little when she started touching him and he gave her a chiding look.

“I’m okay. I’ve been telling you.” There was a slight scold in his voice.

“Are you feeling dizzy? Any pain?” She asked, remembering the brief information she managed to glean after looking up treatment for a broken nose online.

“No. Not yet. _I’m fine._ ” When she continued to look at him worriedly, he managed a small smile and squeezed her hand. He patted the clipboard on her lap. “Let me help you with that.”

“Okay. But this is a waste of time,” Brienne complained, picking up the pen to write. “They’d rather have me fill out forms first instead of treating you.” She glared at the nurses’ station again.

“Hospital bureaucracy, sweetheart. Jaime Nicholas Lannister.”

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. Scribbling it quickly, she said, “Oh. That’s your complete name? It’s nice.”

He stroked her knee, smirking at her blush when his hand briefly slipped under her skirt to stroke her sensitive inner thigh. “Tell me yours,” he urged her.

“Brienne Caryn Tarth,” she answered, seeing his eyes sparkle.

“Now that’s a pretty name. Eyes like yours and the only name you should have is Brienne Caryn Tarth. It suits you.”

“Um, thank you. Caryn is actually my grandmother’s name.”

“Did she have your eyes? Is she still alive?”

“Sadly, no. She died when I was too young to remember her. But yes, my dad said she had blue eyes too.” Noticing how Jaime was looking at her as if to memorizing every freckle, she felt another wave of her blush and turned to the form again. “Uh, I need to know your age.”

“Forty-two.”

He was four years older than her. Writing it down carefully, she asked next, “When’s your birthday?”

“July 27.” Seeing her burst into a wide, amused smile, he squeezed her on the knee. “What?”

“My birthday is right after. July 28.”

“Hey, that’s nice. We should have a joint celebration, don’t you think?”

The day was a little over two months from now. Brienne thought he was just being nice but there was a ring of certainty in his words. She was sure of it. He didn’t just believe they would still be together at that time. They were just going to be. A little confused and feeling lightheaded, she took a deep breath and focused on the form again.

“Um, are you on any medication?”

“Nope.”

“It says here check any that may apply. Hypertension, Heart condition—”

“None. I’m healthy as a horse, sweetheart. The only heart condition I have is I really care for you, Brienne.”

She laughed at his corny line, but it was quick to soften when she looked at him. His blond hair was ruffled from sex and sleep, his eyes were heavy-lidded and had what appeared to be the beginnings of a bruise. There were tampons up his nose. Nevertheless, something in her clicked. He smiled, and she felt herself shake. Amused by the red spots overtaking her cheeks, he added softly, “And if not for this fucking injury, sweetheart, I would still be inside you.”

“Jaime, for Seven’s sake,” she breathed, feeling herself sweat.

“Is it so hard to believe how much I want you?” He drawled. “You believe me right away when I say I want to fuck you. Your sweet little pussy won’t let my fingers go when I’m fucking you and I’m pretty sure my cock’s bruised from it. Why do you doubt me when I say how much want you?”

He took a lock of her short hair and tucked it behind her ear. Watching her blush, he continued, “I can’t believe it’s only now I knew about you, Brienne. We wasted so much time not knowing about each other. I intend to make up huge for the times I should have been fucking you.”

“J-Jaime. . .” she murmured, swaying towards him despite being seated already. He looked around them before trailing a finger down her throat, making her swallow hard, then to the wide valley between her tits. Her nipples peaked painfully against her t-shirt, making him grin. Up and down his finger went to her throat, between her tits.

“My cock’s actually fucking chafed, wench,” he growled against her lips. “At least tell me you’re a little sore.”

She squirmed, crossing her legs self-consciously. Her face was a ripe tomato shade when feeling the familiar, sticky pool gathering in her pussy. He continued smiling at her, as if he knew exactly what was going on in every part of her body. She nodded in answer to his question.

“Good.”

Her breath hitched, chest rising and falling sharply with each entry and exit of air. _Seriously, how was this happening to her?_ Jaime kissed her hand then suggested they go back to filling out the rest of his basic personal information. He lounged more comfortably beside her, an arm settling around her shoulders while he continued caressing her knee and the lower portion of her thigh. He seemed amused at the obvious speed in her breathing and the red blush that wouldn’t leave her cheeks. Despite her unsteady voice as she read the questions out loud, he answered them without teasing or distracting her again.

They encountered a problem when she needed the name of his insurance provider and number. The card was in his wallet—which was not in his jeans pocket. It had fallen out and was still in her bedroom. Brienne proceeded to the next portion of the form.

“Emergency contact?”

“My brother. Tyrion. His number is. . .” After Jaime rattled it off, he said, “Huh. I wonder if he’s on duty today?”

“He’s a doctor too?”

“ENT,” he explained.

The form complete, Brienne marched up to the desk again and narrowed her eyes at Talisa. “I’m done. My boyfriend’s wallet is missing and it has his insurance card. But he’s a doctor here and he broke his nose, damn it. Doesn’t his employment give him some priority here? All you guys are doing is having coffee and chatting.” She said, looking pointedly at the group of nurses lingering on their coffee. Even Talisa had a fresh cup.

Talisa did not disguise rolling her eyes at Brienne before looking at the chart. She suddenly squealed. “Why didn’t you say it’s Dr. Lannister?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you but you kept interrupting and told me to fill out the bullshit form first.” She dropped the clipboard on the table and glared at her. “Don’t pin this on me.”

But the nurse didn’t apologize. Although she herself took a wheelchair to Jaime and had the other nurses help him, it was too late in Brienne’s eyes. The nurse kept them waiting for close to an hour because she believed to be doing proper protocol. As she tried to wheel Jaime, Brienne snapped, “No, not you. You’ve done enough. Sir,” she called one of the male nurses, a stout, young man with limp dark hair. His name was Samwell Tarly. “Would you mind helping us? Your fellow nurse here is clearly too busy manning the desk to be of any significant help.”

The dig was not lost on Talisa but she could only relinquish her hold on the bars with a haughty huff before walking coolly back to the reception desk. Sam gave Brienne a friendly smile. “Don’t mind her, miss. Dr. Lannister, sorry you were kept waiting. I’m Sam. I assisted you in a surgery a few weeks ago. Walda Frey, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I remember. I believe I’ll need to have a word with your supervisor regarding polite behavior towards the girlfriends of patients.” Jaime answered as he was wheeled to the emergency ward. “Here, Brienne.” He said, and to her surprise, he took her hand.

“So, what happened?” Sam asked, glancing at their joined hands and seeing Brienne blush. Brienne opened her mouth to answer but Jaime beat her to it.

“It’s a sex-related injury,” he said, making Sam laugh.

“Jaime!” Brienne protested, freezing on her tracks to glare at him. Sam suddenly had a coughing fit as he looked away while Jaime smiled up at her blandly.

“What, sweetheart?”

She put her hands on the armrests as she leaned toward him. Her eyes big despite her scowl, she hissed, “You don’t tell people that!”

“Sweetheart, health care providers need to know everything that led to the injury. It informs them on the treatment.”

“You couldn’t say you hit a wall?” She demanded.

“I would think a nose that may be broken from colliding into a wall could be very different when getting it from fucking.” He said, spreading his palms open in apparent helplessness. She frowned, realized he was playing her and came close to kicking him in the balls.

“Oh, my gods!” She groaned. “Just be more discreet, okay?”

“Wench, I don’t see why you’re embarrassed. Fucking is the most natural thing in the world,” Jaime replied breezily. He beckoned at Sam to come forward and wheel him to the ward. As Brienne turned crimson from head to toe, he continued, “Besides, you’re not the one with tampons up her nose. Hey, there,” he said, nodding at a few nurses and doctors looking at them with open curiosity. “Haha. Yes. I’ve got tampons up my nose. Dr. Baratheon,” he acknowledged formally to a slim man with a receding hairline and grim features, as if he was often at the receiving end of bad news. The man nodded at Jaime, frowning.

“Dr. Lannister. Are you. . .alright?”

“Best feeling I’ve had in a long time, doc. Toodle-loo!” Jaime called out, giving him a backward wave because Sam was still wheeling him.

Despite the argument, Jaime and Brienne were still holding hands reaching the ward. Doctors and nurses milled about interviewing and giving treatments to patients in various emergency situations. A little boy was screaming about his broken arm. An elderly man seemed to have a ceramic cat stuck to his hand. Partition screens gave each bed some privacy but not all health care professionals drew them closed all the time. 

Sam and Brienne helped Jaime out of the chair so he could sit at the foot of a cot. “I’ll send the doctor for you right away, Dr. Lannister,” he said to Jaime. “And miss, you did alright putting, the, er, tampons in his nose. It’s a smart move. I never thought of it but it makes sense.” He was smiling but it was impressed rather than amusement.

“It was Jaime’s idea,” Brienne murmured as Jaime slipped an arm around her waist.

“She’s my girlfriend, by the way,” Jaime told Sam. “Brienne Tarth. She’s in I.T.” He said as if she had discovered the deepest secrets of the universe.

“Oh. Well, nice to meet you, Brienne.” Sam told her. “Er, I’ll go now. And don’t worry too much. It will be alright,” he assured them before leaving.

“He’s nice,” Brienne said to Jaime. “At least that’s the first friendly one we’ve encountered.”

“Sit with me, Brienne,” Jaime didn’t wait for her to do it, simply tugged her by the hand so she was next to him. He put an arm around her shoulders and discovered the tension in them. “Hey, relax. Sam’s right. It’s going to be alright.”

She sighed and laughed weakly. “I’d believe you, but you look like hell, Jaime.”

“I look a lot worse than I feel, sweetheart,’” he insisted, tweaking her on the nose and making her laugh. She looked at him apologetically.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Jaime.”

“Come on, now. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault,” he told her firmly, looking deeply in her eyes to make sure she believed him.

Forgetting about his nose for a moment, she leaned in to kiss him. Jaime retreated sharply, yelping in pain. As she stared at him in horror, the curtain was pushed open. Brienne leaped off the bed guiltily while Jaime winced from the pain. Suddenly looking past her shoulder, he gave a salute. “Well, hello there, loser.”

The man sighed loudly and ran a hand through his thick, dark copper hair. He looked as tall as Jaime, but leaner. Any man paled to Jaime in looks although the one standing before them had a pleasant enough face, and was even quite good-looking. He fixed the collar of his white coat befor glancing at the clipboard in his hand. “Had to see it with my own eyes. What the fuck are you doing here on your first day away from work? Can’t live without me?”

“I assume you know each other,” Brienne remarked, looking at the two men with open curiosity.

Jaime winked. “This here is Dr. Addam Marbrand. We’ve know each other since we were in nappies. He was still wetting the bed at six, though.”

“Fuck you, Jaime. Sorry,” Addam told Brienne, flushing a little. “But he’s right, we’ve known each other all our lives. But the bed-wetting thing is a product of his oft-deranged mind. You are. . .?”

“Brienne Tarth,” Jaime answered.

“Brienne Tarth. . . _oh_.” Suddenly, Addam flashed his pearly whites on her. It was a friendly but knowing smile. “Ah. So you’re _that_ Brienne.”

“ _That_ Brienne?” She echoed, pale eyebrows drawing together. As Addam peered at Jaime’s nose critically, she asked, “Is there like, a Brienne One, and Brienne Two?”

As Jaime laughed, Addam assured her, “Don’t worry about it, Brie. Jaime said that’s your nickname, right? You’re the only one. He’s been mouthing off about you since—”

“Addam,” Jaime suddenly warned.

Brienne thought she was going to die on the spot when she realized what it meant. _“Jaime! Did you tell him?”_ She glared at him accusingly, wondering if she should drag him out of the hospital first. What was the use of kicking him in the balls if he was getting treatment right away? Jaime shook his head quickly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“ _What?_ Fuck, no,” he protested as Addam tapped his nose. “Ow!”

“Can you breathe?” Addam asked.

“I have tampons up my nose. What do you think?” Jaime growled. Seeing Brienne looking murderous, he quickly continued, “Sweetheart, I swear on my life—”

“Oh, swear on whatever the fuck you want, Jaime! You _had_ to tell him about the diaphragm?” It was one thing when he told her in public very inappropriate, sexual things he would like to do to her. It was a secret turn-on. But when he talked about her, and something that was basically a traumatic accident, to someone else, that was crossing the line. She stared at him with hurt shimmering in her eyes and a tremor in her lower lip. Jaime continued shaking his head, looking distressed at her expression.

“Diaphragm? What diaphragm?” Addam asked, making another note on the chart. “Speaking of, is it true you had a patient last week who had a diaphragm stuck because of sex? How does that even happen? Did she tell you how big the guy is?”

 _“Seven bloody hells!”_ Brienne shrieked while Jaime glared at Addam. “Is nothing fucking private in this hospital?”

‘’Be quiet,” he ordered Addam, suddenly turning pink. Addam stared at him in confusion then at Brienne, who still looked angry. Back and forth he looked at them before his face cleared upon putting two and two together.

“Oh.  Err. . .honest to the Seven, Brienne, Jaime didn’t tell me about that. It’s the nurses. He just said he met you in a club and has been sighing and looking far more idiotic than usual every time you call or message him. I didn’t know that patient was you. Why didn’t the guy stick around? He could have helped you—”

“Addam,” Jaime said with a loud sigh. Brienne wished for the floor to swallow her up. “Shut up.”

“Ah.” Addam nodded slowly, looking at him then at Brienne when realizing another fact. He made a face at Jaime. “Well, getting it out of her is the least you could do after. . .that.”

“Just drop it,” Jaime ordered him, shaking his head. “Brienne, sweetheart. As you can see, I didn’t tell Addam all the details about us—”

“That’s a surprise,” she retorted, crossing her arms stiffly.

“But I did tell him I think you’re great and so fucking sexy.”

“He did,” Addam confirmed. “Alright. Jaime.” He snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. “Forget about your girlfriend for the moment. Are you feeling anything? Numbness in your arms? Pain your neck? A headache? Anything that’s off?”

“How about removing the tampons now?” Jaime snapped.

“Just answer his questions,” Brienne said resignedly. She just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“No, no, no. I’m fine. All I want is to get out of this hospital, so I can spend the rest of the day with Brienne.” Jaime cleared his throat. “If she will still have me.”

Despite her annoyance and embarrassment, Jaime Lannister could be disarmingly sweet. He was the most tactless person she knew at the moment. She wanted to deck him on the head the nearest bed pan. At the same time, she wanted to hug him and kiss him.

She gave him a little nod and shrugged, hugging herself. But it was enough for Jaime to look at her with great relief.

“Gods, you’re weird, Lannister. I’m removing the tampons one at a time now,” Addam announced, sitting in front of Jaime and whipping out the tools. Brienne saw him take out a clamp. Putting a hand around his head, he asked, “Is this okay?”

“For kissing? Or for sucking your cock?”

 _“Jaime!”_ Addam and Brienne yelled.

“Geez, will both of you relax? I’m the one with the broken nose here.” Jaime complained. “I’m fine. Get them out, although I don’t see the point being that half the staff have already seen me with it.”

“You told me to put them up your nose,” Brienne reminded him as Addam clamped the first one.

“I didn’t know you were going to insist on taking me to the hospital,” Jaime pointed out. He glared when Addam suddenly pulled away. “What the fuck are you waiting for?””

Addam waved at the clamp. “I can’t have this anywhere near you when you won’t shut up. Although I think Brienne will swear her life to me if I cut your tongue. Shut up and let me do my job, Jaime,” he said impatiently.

So, at last, Jaime kept quiet. Addam dropped the bloody sticks of cotton in the steel dish and examined Jaime’s nose again, touching it carefully as well as the area around it. “There’s still swelling, but nothing that an ice pack and some medication can’t fix. The same goes for your shiners, Jaime,” he said, noting the purpling marks under his eyes.

“His nose isn’t broken?” Brienne asked.

“Didn’t I tell you how great she is? We’ve known each other for just a little over a week and she already fusses over me like a mother hen,” Jaime told Addam, smiling at Brienne happily. Try as she might, she couldn’t resist responding in kind to him. Awkwardly, she stood next to him again and he grasped her hand.

“But, I’m putting a gauze in the nose just in case.” As Jaime began to protest, Addam complained, “Doctors really make the worst patients. Jaime, come on. If you were in my shoes, you’d do the same. Besides, it’s only for three days.”

“First, you can’t be in my shoes because you have measly size eleven feet while I have an impressive thirteen,” Jaime retorted. “Second, my nose is fucking fine. I don’t need any more stuffing in there. It hurts, as expected, but I can breathe.”

“You don’t, but you’re not completely out of the woods yet. We’ll have to monitor your nose for a few days and also be on the lookout for any headaches or discomfort your might have,” Addam told him. Brienne was glad that a doctor was telling him, rather than her. Jaime might wave aside her concern but he should know better about arguing with a professional. Hopefully.

“Wait here while I get you some painkillers. Brienne,” Addam offered his hand and smiled at her. “I almost forgot to say it’s great to meet you.”

She shook hands with him shyly and watched him leave the room. Jaime tugged at her hand again, so she would sit down.  He smiled as she played with his hair.

“Satisfied that I’ll live, wench?”

“Stop making a joke out of it, Jaime. I was really scared.” She scolded him, shaking her head as he tried to kiss her. She leaned away and he pouted.

“Sorry about that,” He hugged her on his side and kissed her hand. “But Addam’s right. Doctors really are the worst patients. If we can’t sit still, we think every diagnosis on us is bullshit. Well, this time the doctor is right on the money.  Are you okay?”

“I am now,” she said. To her surprise, Jaime urged her to rest her head on his shoulder. It was a little awkward because of their heights but he didn’t have to make such an adjustment so she could do this. Her head resting on him, she twined her fingers with his. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“I’m not hurt. Maybe a little embarrassed but I’ll live. Say, sweetheart,” he said, putting a hand on her knee.

“Hmm?”

“I may not be in great pain, but you know what will make me really happy right now?”

“Tell me,” she picked up her head from his shoulder, eager to accommodate him. “You want Jell-o?”

The playfulness in Jaime’s smile was mirrored in his eyes too. “Tell me you’re not wearing panties?”

Her blush overtook her entire face in an instant and she slapped at his hand crawling between her thighs. _“Jaime!”_

“Such a fucking turn-on when you say my name like that,” he teased her, trying to touch her pussy again. She slapped him harder, smirking as he squeaked.

“Serves you right. Gods, Jaime. Will you behave?” She said exasperatedly.

“You know how children get a treat when they behave with the doctor? And they get candy?” He said, rubbing his hand. “I want my candy, sweetheart.”

He thrust his tongue at her quickly, imitating the motions of fucking her. She gasped and hit him on the knee again.

“No candy for you,” she said firmly. “You are _not_ behaving properly.”

 “Alright, wench,” he said, putting up his hands in surrender. “If I promise to not fondle you in public, not ask if you’re wearing panties, do you _promise_ to let me fuck you when we get home? Just my fingers,” he thought to clarify as she sputtered, not knowing whether to laugh or hit him again. “I don’t think Addam will allow me to fuck you although I can ask—”

“Dear Seven, Jaime, you’re killing me. Don’t!”

“Just fingers, then. You do have lots of lube—”

_“Jaime!”_

The man _batted_ his eyelashes at her. “I really love hearing you say my name, Brienne.”

Brienne was thinking to punch him in the nose for real this time when Addam returned with a tiny plastic cup and a glass of water. “Acetaminophen,” he said, handing them to Jaime. Jaime sighed and popped the pill in his mouth then took a swig of the water. “Here’s the prescription.”

Jaime took the sheet of paper and frowned at it. “You actually wrote here that I get the week off.”

“Knowing you, you’d be back in your shift tomorrow. This guy doesn’t know how to take it easy,” Addam explained to Brienne. He sat down in front of Jaime again and started cutting a bandage into strips. Then he started cleaning the blood, gently passing a cotton ball soaked in an antiseptic solution over and round his nose carefully. “You have a cut here on the bridge but your nose doesn’t appear to be broken. We’re covering up the little guy to make sure there are no infections.”

Though relieved that Addam’s presence was making Jaime behave, Brienne was still blushing. She tried to distract herself watching Addam place the thin strip of bandage on Jaime’s nose. Done, he put his instruments away.

“What exactly happened?” Addam asked them.

“I was licking her ass, she was ticklish, and that’s how she hit me,” Jaime explained before Brienne could think of an answer. As her mouth opened, Addam squawked.

_“What?”_

“I was licking, and also biting, her sweet butt. She was ticklish, tried to get me to stop taking more bites out of that heaven, and that’s how I got his,” Jaime said, pointed at his nose.

Just then, the curtain door parted and an elderly man in a tailored gray suit with sharp emerald eyes peeked in. Brienne paled, hoping to the Seven that the man was a stranger who had just wandered into the wrong room. She gripped the edge of the cart holding the first-aid equipment to keep her balance.

“I heard you were here. Did I hear that right?” The old man demanded to Jaime.

“Brienne,” Jaime said without missing a beat. In fact, the bastard even sounded proud. “Meet my father, Tywin Lannister. CEO of Kingsland General. Father, this is my girlfriend, Brienne Tarth.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes at Brienne. She squirmed, feeling like she was the lowest of life forms. “My son was doing exactly _what_ to you?”

“Jaime was just joking,” Addam tried to say, darting his eyes toward Brienne. Jaime snorted.

“As you can see, I have a broken nose, Father—” He began when the curtain parted again. He brightened up as a dwar with dark blond hair and mismatched eyes, one a glaring emerald, entered. He was in a lab coat and a dark suit. “Tyrion!” He sounded excited and gestured at Brienne. “Sweetheart, this is my baby brother, the ENT. Tyrion, this is Brienne. I told you about her.”

“L-Lovely to meet you all,” Brienne stammered, grateful that Addam was trying to save her from further embarrassment but Jaime was _once again_ oblivious. She tried to make her way to the exit. “Um, I should go and hit the pharmacy—”

  
“Nonsense, my brother has told me so much about you,” Tyrion said, going forward to clasp her hand in both of his. “Oh my. That’s a nice grip you have, Brienne. My brother is a very lucky man,” he said in a stage whisper before smiling at Jaime.

The _bastard_ responded with a thumbs-up.

Catching on Tyrion’s meaning, Brienne’s jaw hit the foor. Jaime smiled affectionately and with a slight nudge of his finger under her chin, put it back up. She snatched her hand away from Tyrion.

“What the hell did you tell your brother about me now?” She hissed at Jaime.

“Nothing I didn’t tell Addam,” Jaime said, hand literally on his heart. “I swear, my lady.”

“You know, I think Brienne should get the medication, they’re quite a lot—“Addam tried to say while Tywin glowered at Jaime.

“This is what you do on your weekends, son? Picking up some random woman and doing those things to her _behind_?”

Brienne wished for the ground to swallow her up. Did the entire Lannister family had no filter system? She felt as if she were just watching one catastrophe from the other unfold in slow motion and there wasn’t anything that could be done. _Someone in one of those heavens fucking hates me._

Tyrion looked surprised and intrigued. Looking at Jaime’s broken nose, he asked, “Holy shit, brother. What have you been doing? And to her ass? Did I hear that right?”

“Hold on. Father, I’d like you to know that Brienne is not just some random woman. _She’s my girlfriend._ We met recently and I think she’s awesome, as Addam and Tyrion will tell you—“Jaime started to say before Addam sniggered.

“What will be awesome is if she really breaks your nose this time,” he said. He shook his head at Brienne. “You seem a good person and I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What the hell are you apologizing to her for?” Tywin demanded. “Jaime is the city’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Before I was rudely interrupted,” Jaime said loudly, holding on to Brienne’s hand tightly as she tried to hit the exit again. “I want to make clear that Brienne is my girlfriend. And yes, we were fucking. Well, I was fucking her orally. Hence, the injury.”

“Jaime, come on, will you not?” Brienne wailed, snapping out of her reverie.

“Oh, please, you didn’t have to tell us that,” Tyrion snorted, waving his hand. “You’re wearing her robe and her t-shirt’s inside-out plus her shoes are mismatched. Of course, we all know you both lost your clothes at some point and it wasn’t because someone had a gun on you. Well, maybe, Brienne did—”

“Oh my god, you too?” Brienne squealed at Tyrion, her eyes wild.

“Sweetheart, you should not be embarrassed that I was licking your ass. She’s delightfully ticklish back there,” Jaime announced to their audience with delight. Brienne’s eyes nearly ate up half her face.

“Jaime. Shut. Up. _Now._ ”

“Yeah, this is too much information. Sorry I asked,” This Addam told Brienne sincerely.

“The only way to give an injury the proper treatment is to know every exact detail leading to it,” Jaime pointed out.

Tyrion looked at Brienne sympathetically. “Well, maybe not this instance, brother. Unless it’s just you and your doctor. Not. . .us.”

“I’m not embarrassed I broke my nose from licking and biting Brienne’s ass.” Jaime smiled dreamily. “She smells really nice back there. Did you know that, sweetheart? And it’s as firm as the ass of a three-year-old.” He nudged her on the shoulder. “Believe me, sweetheart.”

“Why is my son acting more idiotic than usual?” Tywin demanded to Addam.

“I swear I only gave him a mild dose of painkillers,” Addam said defensively. He glared at Jaime. “You into toddlers, Jaime?”

“What?” Jaime frowned and shook his head. The curtain opened again, this time admitting Margaery. “Of course not. I’m not a sicko. I only meant to say that Brienne has a very firm ass.”

 _“Jaime!”_ Brienne, Addam and Tyrion protested while Margaery grinned. Looking at Jaime’s nose, she said, “Well, look at that. It’s not broken. I was beginning to think Brie has serious buns of steel.”

“I swear I would do anything for lightning to strike me right here. Fucking right here,” Brienne muttered under her breath. “Jaime, maybe now you should, you know, pipe down—”

“Kissing, biting and licking,” Jaime answered Margaery with a proud grin. “She smells like apples back there.”

Margaery wrinkled her nose. “Uh, Jaime. I’d rather not know.”

Jaime suddenly snapped his fingers. “Ah. I know. Brienne has the ass of a twelve-year-old.”

Margaery looked at Brienne in confusion. “What’s going on? Is he high?”

Tywin looked like he wanted to hit Jaime. “Are you telling us you’re into underaged girls?”

“ _What?_ Fuck, no. I mean, of course not, Father,” Jaime said clearing his throat. He turned to Brienne. “I swear to the Seven I’m not weird.”

“What do you call what you’re doing?” She demanded.

“Maybe instead of comparing your ass to other things that now, come to think of it, are very disturbing, I should just describe it as it is. It has the gentlest curve, stolen from a moon’s crescent, unyielding as steel yet tastes like apples in the spring.” Jaime had that dreamy look on his face again. Brienne narrowed her eyes at Addam.

“You gave him too much. What the hell was that?” She demanded.

“What? It’s just over-the-counter acetaminophen!”

“Tylenol,” Tyrion explained.

“Well, whatever it is, flush it out of him! Get him water!” Brienne cried out.

“I’m on it,” Margaery said, diving out of the room. Addam frowned and fished out a penlight from his pocket. Jaime kissed Brienne soundly on the cheek.

“Wench of my dreams, you,” he said happily. “I’ll be the happiest man alive to just have you and bacon for the rest of my life.”

“Seven hells, did Jaime get this high from one hit?” Tyrion asked Addam as he aimed it toward Jaime’s eyes. Jaime winced and turned away.

“I’m fucking fine. I’m just high on love for Brienne,” he declared, wrapping his arms around her waist. When Addam started pulling out his stethoscope, he complained, “My heart beat’s fine.”

“Yeah, let me be the judge of that,” Addam said, pressing it on his chest and listening. “Deep breath, please. Another one.”

“Is my speech slurred? Did my pupils constrict or dilate when you put a light to them?” Jaime demanded as Margaery returned with two cans of soda. Brienne hurriedly untabbed one and gave it to him.

“Drink this,” she told him.

“No, don’t give him soda. Only water. He’s not showing any symptoms but I know for a fact this is not Jaime’s normal behavior,” Addam said, puzzled as he put the stethoscope away.

“You mean he’s not an overly descriptive asshole?” Brienne said, taking a swig from the soda herself. She had been feeling faint since Jaime started telling everyone the exact circumstances behind his injury.  “That I didn’t know.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he protested. “That hurts.”

“Well, I’m not sorry. You just really embarrassed me. I don’t care if you spent close to an hour with tampons up your nose. I told you what you could have said. I didn’t ask you to lie. Discretion is all I asked for.”

Seeing that she was visibly upset, Jaime was immediately contrite. “Could you give us the room?”

Margaery reached for the curtain. “Let’s go, guys. Brienne, I’ll wait for you.”

Tyrion patted Brienne on the hand. “It’s nice to meet you, really, Brienne,” he assured her. His eyes followed Margaery leaving the room. “Uh, I know it’s not the right place to ask, but would you mind putting in a good word for me for your lovely friend?” He stepped back when she glowered at him. “Well, when you’re feeling friendlier towards Lannisters. Should it happen, you know. Really nice meeting you. And believe me, my brother has it bad for you.”

And he scrambled out. Tywin gave Brienne a strange look before the corner of his lip suddenly quirked, revealing a dimple very similar to Jaime’s. Then he was out.

“I think we should half the dose of the painkillers, just to be safe,” Addam muttered, scribbling a fresh prescription on his pad and passing it to Brienne. “He’s not showing any symptoms of a high but believe me, Jaime isn’t vulgar. Well, not normally this vulgar.”

He gave her an apologetic smile and scrambled out of the room.

Alone, Brienne stood up from the bed and crossed her arms. Her sapphire eyes were brilliant pools of hurt and disappointment.

“Jaime, I know we haven’t known each other for long. When it’s you and me, fine, be as crude and as vulgar. I hate to admit it, but I like it about you. But not when your father’s around. Your brother. Your best friend. My best friend. I’m not embarrassed about what we did. But you had no right to tell people intimate details about us.”

Getting the words out were doing little to her distress. Jaime stared at her, looking even more pained.

“I am sorry. You’re right. I’m crude and vulgar. I like it about myself too. Still, I should not have embarrassed you like that. There’s no excuse for my behavior.” He got up from the bed and went to her, taking her hands. “Instead of telling people how much I enjoyed being with you despite what happened, I should have told you, instead. I am sorry,” he repeated. “But, if you can understand, I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone.”’

She looked at him, biting her lip. “It’s different with you too,” she admitted.

It wasn’t wild times with him, but things were certainly unpredictable. He was as infuriating as he was sweet, sincere as he was crude, funny, intelligent, sincere and yeah, he looked like a god. He was a lot of good things in one hell of a package. A gift she never thought to have the right to even want, let alone imagine for herself. Despite the likes of him farthest from her mind, in the few days they had known each other, he had become a part of her in ways she couldn’t wait to find out how and why.

He tried her patience, sometimes. Right now, she was angry and embarrassed. Rightly so. But he never made her terrible for feeling like this. Since Jaime, confusion and uncertainty hardly played into her life, despite not knowing what to expect from him next. A strange paradox.

“What do we do now?” Jaime asked. He nodded at the closed curtains. “They’re quiet now but trust me, they know how to use their ears.”

“I fancy a cinnamon roll. The hospital cafeteria makes a surprisingly decent one. Would you care to join me, uh. . .” Tyrion suddenly said loudly.

“Margaery,” Margaery told him, practically shouting. “Yeah. I would like a roll too.”

Jaime and Brienne waited for the familiar shuffle of feet walking away.

“So, we should leave now,” Tyrion continued to say.

Brienne covered her mouth. “They’re hopeless,” she whispered.

“Stay and you will hear us fuck,” Jaime warned them. As Brienne reddened and there was the unmistakable sounds of footsteps in a rush and bodies colliding, he grimaced and asked, “Too much?”

She shook her head. “I think this time they deserved it. Oh, Jaime,” she threw her arms around him and he hugged her tightly. “You’re the sweetest, sexy weirdo.”

“Weirdo. I’m not the one with a mayonnaise on the ass fetish,” he said, patting her on the butt loudly. As she laughed, he whispered in her ear, “Brienne. You really are the best fuck I’ve had. I’d be the biggest fool to let you go.”

She sighed and kissed him on the cheek before pulling away a little to look in his eyes. She smiled at him shyly and glanced at the bandage on his nose. “I don’t want to be the bitch who walks out on the man injured for liking her body way too much.”

“Like? I love every inch of you, wench. Everything about you.” He said firmly. Brienne stared at him, startled. He looked surprised too and he turned pink. It was cute.

“Ah. . .maybe we should hit the cafeteria and get some lunch,” he said, clearing his throat. He put an arm around her waist and pushed the curtain out of the way. “It’s Saturday. They have apple pie.”

“You sent me apple pie the day after I saw you for the treatment,” Brienne said carefully as they walked out of the ward.

“I sure did.”

“And. . .and. . .” Feeling her cheek burn, she said hastily, “you also compared me to apples.”

Jaime grinned. “Well, isn’t it obvious, sweetheart? Apples are my favorite. And I hit the fucking jackpot meeting you and your apple-red cheeks,” he said, pinching one gently, “and finding out that you taste and smell like them too. I didn’t just remember the cute star freckles near your pussy, Brienne. Your pussy tastes like the sweetest apples too.”

“Oh, gods,” she groaned, bursting into a most unladylike guffaw. Jaime scratched his head at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she gasped. “But I beg you, Jaime, never tell people about that. Or I’ll break your legs.”

He smirked and kissed her. “Consider me warned, wench.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to evoke the comedy of the second chapter but that's just going to BE a repetition. That repetition has to lead somewhere, I realized. That's why this chapter ends a little differently compared to the others.
> 
> Don't worry. There are might be two more really embarrassing moments ahead for our favorite couple!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> P.S. The painkiller Addam gives Jaime hardly have any side effects but its usage must be strictly followed to the letter. So don't for a moment think that Jaime's reaction to it is accurate. I think he may be highly sensitive to it, not to mention that he might be possibly coming down from the adrenaline of a stressful event.


	8. Eight

Two years later

House of Rose was an exclusive restaurant located at the top floor of The White Sword Tower, the highest building in the city. Its three-hundred-sixty-degree view of Kingsland at night had sent many of its diners oohing and aahing, but the price of a meal may also be another factor.

Brienne was not worried. After heading the I.T. department of the Kingsland headquarters of Westeros Intelligence Agency, she was promoted to be the director of the cybersecurity division recently. The need to celebrate was urgent. Jaime was taking her away for a long weekend next week to celebrate. But there was another celebration they should have made earlier but had been unable to: Jaime’s birthday.

Because of his work, they had to delay the celebration until tonight. Brienne was eager to flex her new influence in the city by securing a reservation at House of Rose, and ensuring her credit card bill was paid. She talked to Jaime about bringing him to dinner there, knowing that he was dying to try the coq au vin the food world was raving about. When she suggested celebrating his birthday there, he was ecstatic. It was really sweet. Despite his success and money, Jaime Lannister still appreciated the littlest things in life. The small tray of succulents she had given him a while back was still on his coffee table—and alive. She got kisses all over when she brought him a basket of his favorite creamy cheeses.

He also had no problem when she asked to take charge of his birthday celebration. He was traditional in that he always insisted on picking up the tab when they ate out but for his birthday, he just smiled and wouldn’t stop talking about how because she was paying for dinner, he was going to put out big. He wanted a joint celebration of their birthdays but she insisted that the night only be hisn

She smiled at Jaime before taking a sip of the rich burgundy. Blond hair slicked back and dressed in a tailored tux, Jaime Lannister was just devastatingly and sexily _glorious._ One would think she was the one with the birthday because he was practically a gift, with that black bow tie steering her thoughts to things simply not suited for public knowledge.

What a wonderful night this was turning out to be. They were more in love than the first time they admitted their feelings to each other. The fucking, unbelievably, got even more mind-blowing. She crossed her legs, blushing as she felt the familiar hollowness in her pussy. Hoping to distract herself from Jaime’s suggestive, leering smile, she turned her attention to the orchestra playing big band classics. Several couples were on the dance floor, moving languidly to the music.

“That blue of your dress goes well with your eyes, sweetheart,” Jaime drawled, drawing her attention back to him. He smiled as she pinked before continuing, “Ah, yes. You really do have astonishing eyes, Brienne.”

She bit her lip, remembered her lipstick and just looked at him. Her dress was a rich, midnight blue with a low V-neckline, thin straps and a back that dipped almost to her waist. It had a straight skirt that ended at a knee and she wore black velvet strappy sandals with it. Except for her lipstick, her face was bare. The revealing style of the dress showed off the freckles scattered beginning from her forehead all the way to her broad shoulders.

“You flatter me too much, Dr. Lannister,” she teased him while reaching for his hand across the table.

“I thought you could use a break from hearing me say how much I love kissing your fat nipples and tonguing your wet pussy,” Jaime said just as a waiter arrived to clear the table of the dishes from the first course. Brienne’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and the waiter, obviously drilled at discretion, hastily made an apology and practically flew away from their table.

“Whoops,” Jaime said, not sorry at all. She rolled her eyes at him, but they were sparkling.

“Hardly anything I can do about that. Learning to live, anyway,” she said.

“And loving it, wench.”

She giggled. “So, you’d like to think.”

“I don’t think. I know,” he said, smirking.

After a few more moments of banter, the same waiter returned. He seemed to wait a moment, waiting for Jaime to speak before taking away the dishes. Brienne was trying not to laugh the entire time while Jaime stared at her as if he could see through her dress.

“The coq au vin, sir,”the waiter said, setting the dish of the next course in front of Jaime with flourish. He took the next plate from the cart and presented it to Brienne with pride. “Ma’am, the daube provencale.”

“Thank you,” Jaime told him. He nodded at Brienne’s glass. “If you could take care of her wine too, though?”

“Of course, sir. Gladly.” The waiter refilled her goblet and then Jaime’s. “Might I be of further assistance?”

“We’re fine. Thank you so much,” Brienne told him.

With the waiter gone, they continued to talk. Brienne was amazed with how fascinating Jaime still was. Two years was not very long together but she was still curious about so many things about him, and whatever she found out fed it some more. And she was also so proud of him. This year, Jaime published an article in a medical journal after a years-long drought.

He and the hospital were still conducting a study about the increasing frequency of cancers concerning the female reproductive system among young women. It appeared that despite being quite religious with getting tested and all the early detection tests and systems in place, some cancers were still slipping past. The findings at the moment were grim—these diseases were harder than ever to detect because they appeared to have evolved into something ‘much more silent,’ than they already were. Jaime theorized that some of these cancers had evolved into more aggressive forms, or worse, new kinds of cancer.

She admired his dedication and understood the long hours he spent in the lab because this was very personal to him. It did not make for pleasant conversation at any point but she still encouraged him to speak to her about it because she herself knew that this could lead to something groundbreaking and important for the rest of the world. Besides, she would remind him, he let her prattle on about bytes and not once did he fall asleep. They knew very little about the minute details of each other’s work but respected it and made an effort to take part in it, uninteresting as it could get at times.

Then of course, the teasing. The playful banter. But fucking was still how they came best together. It was their language.

“This place where you’re taking me,” she said, cutting off a piece of the meat. “You know, you can’t keep it a surprise. I need to know if I have to bring a heavy coat or a bikini.”

“Oh, there’s no need for you to worry about the clothes, wench.” Jaime’s eyes twinkled.

“Jaime, when we go on vacation, I expect to see some of the sights too, you know. And not—“she said, holding up a finger when he started to speak. “Just the bedroom. And your penis.”

“Dr. Lannister. Miss Tarth,” spoke a gravely voice right behind her. Jaime bit his lip to keep from laughing while Brienne turned a vivid shade of pink. “I’m the host. How do you find your meal so far?”

“We’re very pleased by it, thanks for asking. Best coq a vin I’ve had,” Jaime replied.

“I’ll make sure to pass along your compliments to the chef. Miss Tarth,” the man gave her a friendly smile and she wondered how much he had overheard.

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“Great. Thank you for your kind words and please, enjoy the rest of your meal.” The host clasped his hands at his back and went to the other tables to chat.

“Don’t worry, if he overheard something, he seems a good man, he will be discreet,” Jaime assured her as soon as the host was out of their earshot.

“Gods, how embarrassing.” Brienne put  her palms on her cheeks. “I’m burning up.”

“Fortunately, sweetheart, blotchy pink becomes you,” Jaime assured her. “But it’s nothing compared to your dress, just so you know.”

“You’re always sweet, Jaime.” To everyone else, it was a ridiculous comment. To her, it was practically poetry. Amused and blushing some more, she sent him a look of naked want that had him raising his goblet to her.

“Can’t help it. It’s you, wench,” he told her, his eyes soft. “You are the smartest, sexiest and just the most fucking irresistible person I know. I’m torn between wanting to throw myself at your feet and worship you or grabbing you and fucking you until you’re too weak to stand.”

“Jaime, for Seven’s sake,” she breathed, quickly checking if another restaurant staff would overhear them. Glad to find none, she concentrated on the rest of her dinner.

Bursting out of her dress seemed imminent towards the end of the meal but Jaime insisted on ordering dessert. Unable to refuse him when he looked at her with such heated want, she agreed but urged him to choose for them. He shot her a smile, looked past her shoulder and nodded. Curious, she turned to see a server coming to them with a plate of an open-faced, luscious dessert.

“Will this be all, Dr. Lannister?” He was asked. Jaime smiled even more.

“Yes, thank you. I expect the other arrangements are going fine?”

The waiter nodded and beamed at Brienne. “They are. I will see to it shortly.”

Left alone again, Brienne asked, “What was that all about?”

“I just don’t us to have a long wait at the valet later so I asked if they could call downstairs ahead,” Jaime answered, reaching for his dessert fork. “Eat, sweetheart.”

She did, taking a bite of the tart dessert. “It’s. . .it’s apples,” she remarked, chewing thoughtfully. Another blush swept through her, remembering it was his favorite fruit and how he had come to associate intimate details about her with it.

“Tarte normande,” he explained. “How is it?”

“It’s delicious,” she said honestly.

“I’m glad,” he said, his eyes lighting up. Suddenly, he reached for her hand. “Are you having a good time, wench?”

Before she could answer, the orchestra switched from playing big band classics to a more upbeat tune, yet also restrained. She looked at them, frowning as she tried to recognize the increasingly familiar strains of the music. Jaime was frowning as he looked at them. She was about to comment that the switch must have been due to a request when he muttered, “What the fuck is that?”

“Sounds like something I would know years ago,” she said, turning back to him. This time she took his hand. “You were saying?”

Jaime turned away from the orchestra and seemed to gather himself, shrugging. Face clearing, he said, “I was asking if you’re having a good time.”

“Of course, I am,” she answered, her ears listening to the singer. It was disconcerting to hear a man with a clear beautiful voice more suited to classics than soft rock singing a tune that was popular when she was still in school. “It’s a wonderful meal,” she continued, “and I have you to enjoy it with.”

“So. . .um,” Jaime frowned at the orchestra again then turned back to her, clearing his throat. “You’re having a good time. . .with me? Generally?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Is being with me something that, I suppose, you can see doing permanently?”

Unused with how he seemed to fumbling for words, she asked, “What’s the matter?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong, sweetheart,” he quickly assured her. He tightened his hold on her hand. “It’s just, since the first night I’ve been—”

 _“Deep inside of you,”_ The singer suddenly burst out, startling them and the other guests of the restaurant. He continued to sing. Brienne felt herself burn up from the neck to her face while Jaime glared at the band again.

“What the fuck was that? That’s not what I requested,” he complained.

“What are you talking about?”

Looking annoyed, he said, “I had them do something and the waiter said things are fine. You heard him. I’ve been—”

 _“Deep inside of you,”_ the singer repeated with the same strong emphasis. _“These secret garden beams changed my life so it seems, fall breeze blows outside, I don’t bring stride. . .”_

“Jaime, what’s going on?”

“Fuck if I know,” he said, frustrated. “Brienne, all I want is to be—”

_“—deep inside of you.”_

“Jaime?” She asked, seeing him clearly upset. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“That’s not the fucking song!” He blurted out. “Seven bloody hells, where did they dig up this shit?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jaime stared at her helplessly. As he seemed to scramble for the words to say, the singer continued:

 _“Till I met you_ __  
Friends say I've changed  
I don't listen cause I live to be  
Deep inside of you  
Slide of her dress, shouts in darkness  
I'm so alive I'm  
Deep inside of you. . .” 

“Although, let’s face it, the song pretty much echoes my sentiments about wanting to fuck you until the end of my days, Brienne, but it’s a little crude and sad, don’t you think? Not to mention it isn’t the song I requested!”

“Jaime, Jaime.” She tugged at his hand to get him to focus at her. “What do you mean? You requested a song? Are we supposed to dance?”

“Afterwards,” he said, staring at the band sadly. “Brienne, sweetheart, I want you to know—”

_“You said boy make girl feel good_ _  
But still...deep inside...STILL!”_

“Holy shit,” Brienne said, shaking her head at the band. “I can’t believe I used to love this song. What did you ask them to play?”

“Not this piece of shit, definitely,” Jaime complained. “I wanted them to play ‘ _The Way I Feel Inside.’_ From The Zombies.”

“I know that song,” Brienne said, her sapphire eyes softening as she realized how much this meant to Jaime. Then she startled him by standing up. She smiled at Jaime’s stunned expression as she made her way to the band. She didn’t have to wind around the dancing couples because the dance floor was suddenly empty. She kept a polite distance until the singer and the band finished the song. He was dressed in a white formal jacket like the rest of the band, along with a black bow tie and pants. His longish black hair was swept back. His gray eyes were in stark contrast to his tan, weathered face but he did have a beautiful voice.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she told them with a smile. “I was wondering if you would mind taking another request?”

“Certainly, miss,” the singer told her. “What do you have in mind?”

“It’s for my boyfriend. I believe he wanted you to play _‘The Way I Feel Inside,’_ by The Zombies. There appears to be some miscommunication?”

“I knew it,” said the singer. “I knew that waiter got it wrong. Don’t worry, miss,” he said, giving her a friendly salute. “I’ll sing the shit out of your boyfriend’s request. A little cheesy but it is a nice song.”

“Thank you, err. . .”

“Bronn, miss. At your service.”

Pleased, she went back to the table as the band began to play it. Jaime stood up, looking at her with open amazement and clear adoration. But he didn’t wait for her to reach the table and instead took her hand and steered her to the dance floor. Immediately, she tried to stop him.

“Jaime, no,” she whispered. Sitting down, she wasn’t too conscious of their height difference but together, it was really emphasized.

“Brienne, yes,” he said, giving her a firm tug. Knowing it was a lost battle, she let him pull her to the middle of the dance floor. Hand on her waist, he suddenly leaned up and kissed her deeply on the lips. “I love you.”

Moved by the simplicity of his declaration, she put her forehead against his. “I love you too.”

The song was also upbeat but sweet-sounding rather than dolorous. To her surprise, Jaime started singing softly along to the singer, his lips on her ear as they danced.

 _“Should I try to hide_ __  
The way I feel inside  
My heart for you?  
  
Would you say that you  
Would try to love me too?  
  
In your mind  
Could you ever be  
Really close to me?  
  
I can tell the way you smile  
If I feel that I  
Could be certain then  
I would say the things I want to say tonight.” 

As Bronn continued with the rest of the song, Jaime suddenly fell quiet but continued leading her across the floor, where a few couples were beginning to join them. He spun her, the additional three inches she had on him with her heels proving to be no hindrance. Head swimming most wonderfully, she laughed as she found herself back in his arms.

“What are the things you want to say to me tonight?” She asked, a little breathless and feeling like she was floating in the sky.

Jaime grinned. “Will you marry me, Brienne Tarth?”

 

*****  
The door slammed open with a bang and was kicked shut no less gently. Coats fell, shoes kicked off as Jaime and Brienne, kissing furiously, spun in random circles across the room on their way to the bed. As she cupped his face in her hands, the faint light of the moon bounced off the blue diamond ring she now wore. Jaime groaned against her mouth and shoved her against the wall, hands pulling at her skirt, gripping her underwear.

She gasped at the sound of wrenched lace. _“I can’t believe you did that.”_

“Let’s make this clear, sweetheart,” he rasped against her tongue, seizing her bare hips roughly and pressing his clothed erection against her pussy. “Anything that covers your beautiful pussy, I’m going to fucking rip off.”

“Gods, I love you so much,” she grunted, throwing her arms around him.

Mouths mashing, he pressed her against the wall, working on the zipper of his pants. Suddenly he pulled away. “What the hell?” She wailed.

“I’m fucking you in bed, Brienne. But I don’t want that dress or any clothing anywhere near the bedroom.” He said, kicking off his pants. He should look ridiculous with his jacket halfway down his arms, his shirt hanging loose and his bow tie still in place while he was naked from the waist down. She laughed and lowered the straps of her dress, tilting her hip to the side to get the zipper there.

“Fucking yes,” Jaime whispered as the dress fell to the floor. “Come here.”

This time, he scooped her up from the floor, burying his tongue in her softly pliant mouth. She clung to him, not out of fear that he might drop her because she was so much heavier but from a need so great she was practically choking from it. She moaned his name as they fell on the bed, her arms never budging from his shoulders.

Both of them reached for the lights, flicking on the lamps resting at the nightstands flanking the bed. She kissed him up and down his cheek, his neck, loving his warm, lemony scent. She sniffed him deeply, even licked up, making him rear back and grunt he was ticklish before biting at her ear. She pushed his jacket away and tore at his bow tie. Together, they attacked his shirt, sending buttons flying. Their laughter came to an end when Jaime claimed one of her ripe nipples with his mouth.

“Jaime,” she groaned, fingers gripping at his hair, her feet flattening firmly on the bed, so she could thrust against his cock. _“Jaime. Oh, Jaime.”_

His head turned side to side kissing and sucking at her nipples. They were highly sensitive lately and he loved destroying her just from enjoying the plump nubs. As she thrashed under him and continued throwing his name to the ceiling like a passionate prayer, his hand settled on her pussy.

“Fucking hell, Brienne. You’re soaked.” His mouth returned to her lips.

“Fuck me now,” her voice was strangled as they kissed. “Oh, gods. Jaime. Fuck me.”

 “Can you make that part of your wedding vows, sweetheart?” He gasped, hands shoving her legs impossibly wide open. “Damn. Remember that first night? Do you know how much I wanted to fuck you, then? I was ready to fucking take you right there on the club, Brienne.”

Her laugh came to a wheezing end as he began thrusting in her. “Never tell anyone that.”

She wrapped her legs around him and welcomed him in her arms. Their eyes met, showing him for the first time the tears in her own. Her heart had never been so full. She was so happy she feared she toed the narrow demarcation between life and death. “I love you, Brienne,” he whispered, brushing a tendril of her pale hair from her sweaty forehead tenderly.

Then he rested the full weight of his body on her and rammed deep in her pussy. She cried out against his mouth, their eyes intent and smoldering as their bodies joined in the rough, breathtaking union that had become their truest language. He swallowed her gasps, stared in her eyes as his cock plundered into her, her pussy seeming to gasp wetly from the brutal force of his thrusts. She groaned hearing her pussy struggling to stretch, whispered his name as he slid out of her, slicker than the previous time before plunging back in to stir even more in the pool of her. He kissed her palm, gasping to keep her hand on his cheek. She buried her teeth in his firm shoulder, sucking the sweat and salt of him from his skin.

After their passionate, draining tussle, Jaime lay sprawled half on top of Brienne. She lovingly played with his hair as he pressed lazy kisses around her breast, licking a swollen nipple. He held her by the left hand, seemingly entranced by the ring he put there.

“When?” He asked, turning to pull her nipple into his mouth and sucking languidly. She gasped, her thighs tightening around his muscular leg.

“When. . .what?” She gasped as he released it with a loud pop.

“Do we get hitched tomorrow or six months from now? A year from now? This week?” He asked, propping his head up on a chin. He dropped a kiss on her neglected nipple, his dimples flashing as she sighed his name roughly.

“Well, what do you want?” She asked, caressing his chest and humming as the hairs tickled her palm.

“Honestly? I don’t give a fuck about ecru themes, flowers, tuxes, destination wedding or whatever just as long as you become mine.” He lay down beside her and she made a home in the circle of his arms, this time taking his nipples in her mouth. He chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “ _Director_ Lannister. Or hey, if you want to keep Director Tarth, that’s also great. As long as you’re my wife, wench.”

She kissed around his chest, nibbling on the hard muscles there. “I _do_ like Director Lannister.”

“You _do_?” He said playfully.

“Fucking yeah,” she whispered back, kissing down his stomach. She dipped her tongue in his cute belly button, her eyes brightening as he grunted.

_“Wench.”_

“Hmm?”

“It’s my turn.”

“It sure is,” she said, lowering her head. She yelped in surprise when he suddenly yanked at her hair. “Jaime! What the fuck?”

“It’s _my_ turn,” he said, tossing her on her ass back on the bed. Her annoyance quickly melted away as he pushed her legs far apart and started kissing down her stomach.

Giggling, she gasped, “Jaime! It’s been _your_ turn all week!” 

“Can’t help it.” He said, kissing her hipbone. “Your pussy’s so fucking delicious I fear I should confess to the septon for overindulgence.”

She laughed then, cooing when he started kissing her sensitive inner thighs, the ticklish seams before pressing his lips on her slit. He sniffed her pubic hairs deeply.

“Fuck. That’s rich,” he groaned in pleasure as she blushed heavily.

“This weekend,” she whined throatily as his tongue slid up and down her slit, slowly nudging her folds open.

Jaime looked up from her pussy. “What about this weekend?”

“Braavos,” she said. “We can fly to Braavos with friends and family and get it done in one of the quickie wedding chapels.”

“No tuxes? No white dress?”

She paused. “Would you like that?”

“Only if you do, wench,” he sounded delighted. “You don’t?”

She shook her head.

“Fantastic. Besides, I don’t want to spend half the night getting you out of a heinous meringue of taffeta when I could be _deep inside of you_ ,” he finished the last four words in a singsong voice, making her explode with laughter again.

“You’re so fucking outrageous,” she said, closing her eyes as he thumbed her open. “Gods. Jaime. Thank the Seven for your tongue and cock.”

He chuckled, and she opened her eyes. “Spread your legs some more, wench. Come on. Show me how much you want me deep inside of you. And watch me.”

“Okay.”

She did as he commanded and he pressed his face against her pussy. She watched his golden head moving between her legs, her heart thumping erratically as he started killing her. He looked up, withdrawing his tongue briefly to smile at her before turning back to her pussy.

Expecting him to devour her again, he instead frowned. “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“Keep your legs spread, sweetheart.” He told her. He rose from the bed to get a flashlight from the nightstand. She quickly shut her legs.

“Jaime! What the fuck?”

“Look, I have to see something. It’s nothing bad, I think. But I want to be sure.” He explained, flicking on the other lights in the room. She hurriedly crawled under the blanket and he sighed.

“Sweetheart, not that. I promise there’s a good reason why I have this,” he said, holding up the flashlight.

Her eyes were huge. “Jaime, you know you don’t have to convince me so much to get into the kinky stuff with you but I’m going to beat your ass if you put that thing inside me! That’s massive!”

“I’m not. I promise. But there’s something I need to see. I promise this isn’t kinky.”

He looked serious. Brienne sat up. “You promise it’s nothing bad?”

“Well. . .objectively, I don’ think it is. But I have to make sure I saw what I did, sweetheart.” He flicked on the flashlight and aimed it toward her. “Brienne? Please? I need you to get rid of the blanket and to spread your legs.”

Still unsure but trusting him, she put the blanket away. Jaime knelt at the foot of the bed and dragged her legs toward it before instructing her to fold and spread them. “Just relax,” he urged her, kneeling between her legs. He aimed the flashlight toward her pussy and his fingers spread her open.

“It’s just as I thought,” he murmured. “Brienne?”

“Yeah?” She asked, unsure of what to make of his words. He wasn’t smiling at all.

“When was your last period?”

“Um. . .” she tried to count back. But the math eluded her with images of work, Jaime, and more work and more Jaime getting in the way. Frowning, she stammered, “Uh, I-I guess when we had that weekend at Casterly Rock? Why?”

“That’s over six weeks ago. You’re late, wench,” he said, turning off the flashlight and getting to his feet. He ran a hand through his hair and she noticed it was trembling.

“Late? What do you mean?” She asked, sitting up. He sat down beside her.

“You’re late,” he told her gently, putting an arm around her shoulders. As his meaning sank in, he added, “Your cervical mucosa is bluish, sweetheart.”

“Huh?” She asked faintly, blinking at him.

Jaime kissed her on the forehead and hugged her tightly. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m _what?_ ”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s a surprise and we’ve been using contraception—” Jaime started to reassure her. As he spoke, his face suddenly distorted right before her eyes and his easy, sexy drawl turned into a dull drone. Feeling herself chilled and sweating, she squinted at him.

He stared at her now, realizing she wasn’t taking the news well. “Uh, Brienne?” He sounded worried. "Sweetheart?" 

“I think I’m gonna faint,” she groaned, her voice sounding disembodied to her ears before slumping in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep Inside of You is a 2001 song by Third Eye Blind:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBk509ntyUs
> 
> The Way I Feel Inside is a song by The Zombies, and sung in the animated movie Sing by Taron Eggerton.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mImpyDo2c1U
> 
> Chadwick's Sign is one of the early signs of pregnancy. Wikipedia entry here:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chadwick%27s_sign
> 
> My idea for making Bronn a singer is inspired by Jerome Flynn's pop career. Can't get over he was blond as a young man!  
> Here's a video of Robson and Jerome:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAcGUpQJsjQ


	9. Nine

If not for Jaime’s assurances, Brienne would be a lot more worried about being pregnant for the first time at forty years old. He had to ban her from Googling ‘pregnancy risks for geriatrics,’ reasoning that while there was a lot of legit stuff online, there was also as much bullshit, maybe more. The best sources for anything regarding pregnancy and having a baby were the classics _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_ and _Baby and Child Care_ and, in his own words, “doctors who understand women and pregnant women, pregnant women, and anyone who’s had a baby and raising them.” Their Lamaze class led them to support groups geared towards Brienne’s concerns. He also encouraged her to follow her instinct and not be pressured to conform if she felt in any way uncomfortable. “You may not think it because you’re too scared and too worried but when you feel you’re right about something, more often than not, you are,” he advised her.

As planned, they got married the weekend following their dinner at House of Rose. Jaime had to fess up to Tywin about the pregnancy because the old man nearly had a heart attack finding out that they wanted a quickie wedding in Braavos. Known for being traditional and conservative to a fault, he reluctantly acquiesced but absolute refused to wear a casual suit to the ceremony. Thus, in the photos, while Jaime and Brienne beamed happily in their matching black leather jackets, him in dark jeans and her in a denim mini-skirt and Doc Martens, Tyrion with his scruffy beard and Margaery with her oxygen-sucking tight jeans, Tywin Lannister was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo. He was also unsmiling in most of the photos, but the one where his frank disapproval was most obvious was with Margaery pretending to bite Jaime in the ear and Tyrion at Brienne’s feet, kissing her leg. He reserved his smile for only one, which he insisted to have only with Brienne.

Jaime and Brienne stayed for four days in Braavos. They didn’t leave the suite, nor was room service and housekeeping allowed inside. When they checked out, the hotel staff was torn between shock and amusement at the assortment of empty lubes and torn underwear left behind. The suite was also out of commission for a few days because of the thick, lingering smell of sex. 

They lived in Brienne’s apartment first. Jaime’s place had three rooms, but they were not suited to accommodate another person, let alone a baby. With every room and area finished, they incorporated each other’s furniture and taste, resulting in a moving day that was significantly less stressful than the usual.

Brienne counted herself lucky that aside from a husband who knew his way around the female body in ways both amazing and scientific, Jaime was also a pillar of support and strength. She did tease him that he had an ulterior motive for encouraging her to speak to him about how she was feeling regarding her pregnancy. She switched between outrageously craving food to being horrendously sick from it, cursed the Seven for the heat and her clown feet but was pleased to learn about cleavage for the first time. The one thing that was constant was her libido. Between burrito with extra beef and sour scream and fucking Jaime, spicy Chinese food and fucking Jaime, resting and fucking Jaime, she almost always chose fucking Jaime.

A week before the due date, they were lying on their sides, she moaning at every delicious thrust of his cock in her pussy. She held his hand to her breast, now a full, heavy creamy mound crowned with dark pink, very fat nipples. He bit her on the ear as she squealed her release, bliss spreading across her flushed face at the familiar rush of his semen flooding her pussy. He groaned. The rocking motions of their bodies softened until they were still, panting and very satisfied.

“Gods, how I love you,” she gasped, pulling his hand from her breast to kiss it. She felt him smiled behind her.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he kissed her on the shoulder and snuggled closer. She sighed, cooing softly at his cock now only semi-hard inside her.

“Don’t go yet, please? I might need another fuck—”

Her eyes widened as she felt a popping sensation from inside, followed by a gush down their thighs. Jaime froze behind her too.

“Fuck. I think I peed,” she gasped. Panicking and humiliated, she shrieked, “Jaime, get your penis out of me, oh gods. Get out!”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, calm down,” Jaime said, gingerly pulling out of her. As she covered her blushing face in her hands, he cleared his throat. “Um, Brienne. I don’t think that’s pee.”

“Am I so full of semen my pussy can’t hold it anymore?”

“No. No, sweetheart.” She thought he sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “I think your water just broke.”

_“What?”_

She would sit up quickly but was hampered by her bulk and her too-relaxed legs. He helped her sit up and she tried to look around the mountain below her breasts. She made a face at the wetness between her legs. “I can’t see!”

“No, you can’t, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you dressed, alright?” Jaime said.

She frowned at the soothing turn of his voice. “I’m not panicking.”

“I know. You’re not. I’m trying not to panic.”

“Oh. Sorry. It will be okay, alright?” She said, taking his hand and kissing it again. Jaime kissed her on the forehead and they looked in each other’s eyes.

“This is it,” he breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nodded, gathered himself and straightened up. Despite her discomfort, it didn’t hinder her appreciation of his elegant, muscular form. She stared longingly at his ass, missing being able to be in position to nibble on it. When he turned to get their bag, she could only sigh staring at his wonderful penis. She missed tasting him too.

She stood up, shuffling to the bench at the foot of the bed where her clothes had been waiting to be worn for weeks. As she pulled the loose-waisted dress over her head, she asked, “Jaime, could you get me some panties, please?”

He helped her pull it down over her hips. With a damp towel, he dried her inner thighs and her legs. “No, you won’t be needing those. They’ll be removing it from you, wench as soon as you’re in bed.” He took her flats from under the bed and put them on her before standing up.

“Alright. Yeah, it makes sense,” she murmured.

“I’ll be quick,” he told her. He was wearing only a t-shirt.

“It’s okay,” she said.

As Jaime climbed into jeans, she suddenly shrieked, “Jaime!”

“What? What?” Nearly tripping toward her, he grunted and yanked the zipper of his jeans up. “Contractions? What?”

Feeling herself about to choke from hysteria, she blurted out, “We were fucking!”

“Yes. Yes. We were.” Her wide eyes were worrying him. “Brienne?”

“Jaime, people will know! They’re going to see I’m covered with semen and they’ll know!”

“Yes, sweetheart, they will.”

“Oh, gods.” Feeling suddenly weak, she collapsed on the bench.

He watched her, realizing what was making her react this way. He sat down beside her. “Sweetheart, no one will judge you for having sex.”

“Oh, really?” She demanded, wishing she could cross her legs. Instead, she just crossed her arms and scowled. “I don’t even know any other women who still have sex at this stage! I’m a fucking freak. I can’t seem to live without fucking you!”

“Why the fuck do you think it makes you a freak?”

“What sane woman who’s as pregnant as me can still fuck?”

“Well, I don’t know any, I can’t exactly do a survey or knock on neighbors’ doors right now.” He put his hands on her shoulders as she reddened. “Brienne. Sweetheart. It’s alright. Remember, I told you that sex can induce labor? What’s happening now is perfectly normal. And it’s acceptable to be still fucking your husband, Brienne. I promise.”

She was still suspicious, but he looked so sincere and he never lied to her. “But I’m not wearing panties,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“Then I’ll get you a pair.”

“But you said they’ll be getting rid of it, anyway. I’m just—I don’t—”

As she tried to put her thoughts into words, Jaime suddenly unzipped his jeans. She stared in shock as he kicked them away and then attacked his boxer briefs. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Going commando, wench. I’m not going to push out a human out of my ass but in some measure of solidarity, I’m gonna do this for you.” His cock swung as he reached for his jeans again and pulled them up. “There. No underwear. We’re in this together, Brienne.”

It was probably the sweetest thing he had done for her. Brienne smiled and fell harder in love.

 

*****  
  
It took ten hours for Brienne to bring her daughter to the world. Jaime was at her side, a calm and encouraging presence who kept telling her how much he loved her, the things he loved about her, how sorry he was for the pain she was in, kissing her and then back to how much he loved her. Sometimes, he said something really romantic, such as, “I love you for your gorgeous sapphire eyes,” or ridiculous, “I love you for the way you hum when working on the computer.”

There were also some things that were best left between them: “I love you for keeping me naked on weekends,” “I love you for fondling my cock when you’re dreaming,” “I love you for your epic, milkmaid tits.” She blushed through all of them and, try as she did to fight it, grinned and laughed. The medical staff in charge of her were also very amused.

She collapsed wearily in Jaime’s arms, her eyes now heavy from exhaustion but determined to remain open. She watched the doctors weigh her baby. She could sleep for a year but she needed to hold her daughter in her arms. Finally done with making the necessary recordings, she was swaddled and handed to her. Jaime laughed as she struggled against the pink wrapping, crying in protest.

“Congratulations, Dr. and Mrs. Lannister. She also seems to have an excellent pair of lungs.”

“That she does,” Brienne marveled, tears spilling down her cheeks as soon as she held her daughter. Jaime kissed her and she laughed, turning to kiss him passionately before pushing away the swaddle from the baby’s face to look at her.

Her heart welled up, clenching and aching in the most wonderful way. Never had she held anything this beautiful and so, so precious. Love rushed in like the most powerful tide.

“Oh, Jaime,” she marveled with a shaky smile. “She has your eyes. Hi, my beautiful baby. I love you so much.”

“She’s covered in freckles,” Jaime said, leaning down to kiss her soft forehead. His eyes were watery too. “Sweetheart, she’s the best thing to ever come out of your pussy.”

“Jaime,” she giggled, casting a look at the medical staff surrounding them.

“What shall we name her?” Her OB-GYN, Taena Merryweather asked.

“Noelle.” This was the name she and Jaime had fallen in love with. “She’s Noelle Jacqueline Lannister.”

“That’s a beautiful name, Mrs. Lannister. Just like her. And unique,” Dr. Merryweather replied. She then turned to the nurse to have the name put on record.

 “Singular and spectacular,” Jaime murmured, hugging Brienne to his chest. He kissed his daughter on the forehead next.“Just like her mother.”

 

Three years later

“Hope you ladies aren’t busting out of your pants yet,” Jaime announced as he entered the living room, carrying the cake. The richly-frosted chocolate dome was topped with one candle with sparking flames rather than the usual shape of a rain.

Brienne and Noelle beamed at Jaime from the sofa. Dinner was at the living room, with the coffee table close to collapsing from the amount of food on it. The theme was fast-food, but with a more healthy twist. Huge, portobello mushroom patties grilled in the kitchen, rather than the usual beef, savory mashed sweet potatoes, with fresh herbs and sour cream. The only meat dishes were the Thai beef salad Brienne whipped up herself, and hotdogs, should Noelle want them. The cake was definitely _far_ from healthy. All three wore watching blue pajamas.

“We always have room for cake,” Brienne declared. She kissed Noelle’s pale hair. “Don’t we, my love?”

“Yeah, Mommy!” Noelle agreed enthusiastically, throwing her fist in the air. Brienne laughed and gave her a tight little hug, making her squeal and giggle.

Except for her emerald eyes, Noelle was a miniature version of Brienne from her pale hair down to the freckles on her toes. Her personality was completely ripped off her from her father: laughter announcing her presence, her smile lighting up the room, her ability to pick up words and use them quickly promising a lethal wit in the future. She was enthusiastic and openly affectionate, charming everyone in a room to fall in love with her.

Joining them on the couch, Jaime put the cake on the table. He smiled at Noelle. “Shall we sing, little lioness?” This was his nickname for her.

Noelle nodded enthusiastically and started clapping her hands. Jaime and Brienne followed her lead in singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ His off-key voice and their daughter’s giggling singing had Brienne smiling , stopping to sing to look at them with her heart in her eyes, instead.

“Blow, Mommy!” Noelle squaled. “Daddy!”

“Yeah, Mommy’s good with that!” Jaime added, making Brienne look at him with wide eyes then at Noelle pointedly. He winked and blew her a kiss.

Her cheeks hot, she asked Noelle, “Let’s do it together?”

The girl nodded, showing the tiny, pearly teeth she had. Her cheeks as pink as her mother’s, she puffed them up before joining her parents in blowing out the candles. Brienne kissed her then straightened up to give Jaime one too, heated of course, and something that may traumatize Noelle when she was older and knew better.

“I love you,” Brienne whispered.

“Hmm. I love you too,” he told her, biting her lower lip a little before letting go.

Jaime’s birthday fell on a Friday and Brienne’s, Saturday. She filed for an extra personal day so they won’t feel rushed in their celebration. Jaime too was taking a few days off from work. But they elected to just hang out home at rather than travel elsewhere, even for just a few hours. The day before, they hosted a lunch for their family and friends. They had everyone believe they were going for a drive later. Because of this, they looked forward to being blissfully undisturbed.

They had Noelle choose the cartoon, Dumbo. Elephants were her favorite animal and they were the first she would drag her parents to when visiting the zoo. Jaime had mixed feelings about her choice of a movie. Brienne too, but felt that since she would be watching with parents, they were there to comfort and assure her, and answer should she have any questions.

Brienne settled deep on the couch to watch, a plate of the cake on her lap for Noelle, and Jaime with another plate, with a humongous slice that he and his wife shared. They watched in between bites of cakes, laughing and getting tensed when Mrs. Jumbo attacked the children tormenting Dumbo. Jaime held Noelle’s hand while Brienne kept an arm around her. Their daughter simply watched, her innocence limiting her to see and understand nothing yet beyond colors and sounds, words. Her laughter was magical, and before the movie ended, she was fast asleep on Brienne’s lap.

As the credits rolled, Brienne took Noelle from him, hugging her to her chest. Jaime kissed his daughter on the forehead then her on the lips, sending a look of want so smoldering she thought she’d melt right on the spot. Her blush drew a knowing smile from him.

“Mommy,” Noelle murmured, snuggling closer against the crook of her neck.

“Time for bed, my love,” she whispered. Holding her firmly, she walked the short distance to her bedroom, nudging the door open with her shoulder and flicking on the lights. Gently, she put Noelle on her bed. She reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.

Her stuffed animals consisted of unicorns, elephants, giraffes, pandas and pigs. They were in a shelf by the bed, but a baby elephant Jaime got her recently had prime place on her pillow. Brienne sat on the bed, smoothing away the hair from Noelle’s cheek.

Her emerald eyes suddenly opened. They were sleepy but still bright. “Happy birthday, Mommy.”

“Thank you, Noelle,” Brienne kissed her. “I love you.”

“Wuv you,” she muttered, hugging the toy to her chest tightly.

Brienne pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, watching her sleep for a few minutes. Her sapphire eyes shone with the soft tenderness that was only for her daughter. “I love you forever.”

“Hey,” Jaime spoke softly from the door, gently pushing it open. “She’s asleep?”

“Yeah.” Brienne kissed her on the forehead then made way for Jaime to kiss her too. She watched him touch her on the cheek, his lips quirking in a soft smile.

As a baby, Noelle was often colicky. It could drive any parent mad with frustration and many times, Brienne felt absolutely hopeless and useless. Jaime was the undeserved champion. Many a night, he insisted on checking on their daughter when her cries rang from the baby monitor. When some time passed, and he had yet to return, she often found them in the living room. Playing softly in the room would be a song by The Ramones, one of his favorite bands. Noelle in his arms, he gently shuffled across the room, softly singing along to “Baby, I Love You.”

Her husband was absolutely besotted with their daughter and it was always beautiful to watch. Jaime whispered he loved her, his beard scratching at her soft forehead. Brienne bit back a laugh as Noelle frowned and slapped her father on the cheek.

He chuckled, covering his mouth too. “Just like her mother,” he stage whispered to Brienne as he got up and pulled her out of the room. She turned off the main light.

As soon as the door was closed, his mouth was on her. She reeled back from the force of his kiss, a storm surge that drowned and also swept her up. He tasted of chocolate and spices, but his hands desperately roaming the new, soft curves of her body told that the meal only fed one kind of hunger, that another had a craving that would never be quite filled. His hand fluttered to her jaw before suddenly cupping it firmly, using it to angle her head up. His mouth left her lips to attack her throat, his other hand pulling open her pajama top rather than unbuttoning it. She gasped as buttons flew and scattered on the floor, her hand wrapping around the back of his head as he harshly pulled a plump nipple deep in his mouth.

Just as suddenly as their kiss began, he pulled away. She stared at him, a little confused until he crooked a finger at her. The lust darkening his emeralds stole the breath from her lungs.

“Come to bed, wench.”

She stepped forward when he shook his head slowly, tutting softly. “Naked.”

The blush exploded all over her body. _“Jaime.”_

He started backing away, still beckoning her to come forward. “Come on, Brienne.”

Call her ridiculous but she was not about to parade in their apartment stark naked. But she could compromise. “I’ll take my top off,” she said, shrugging off one shoulder in what she hoped was a sensual movement. “But I’m keeping my pants until the bedroom.”

He laughed. “Deal.”

She smirked, watching him disappear for a moment behind the door. Then she followed, dramatically putting up a hand over her eyes at the brightness of the room. He refused to fuck in the dark, except during sleepy fondlings that led to slow, almost lazy but still very satisfying fucking. Jaime stood at the foot of the bed, tearing at his shirt. He grinned then tugged at the waistband of his pajamas.

She licked her lips as he stood proudly before her, hands on his lean hips and his cock pointing straight at her. He was so beautiful it really hurt to look at him. His hair was still blond but no longer as golden. His beard and chest hairs were now mixed with gray. But the laugh lines around his eyes gave him a sharper, more elegant look, making him more striking than in his younger days. As for his body, now _that_ was a fucking masterpiece.

Hard. Harder than he had ever been, due to religious workouts and saving his culinary indulgences for the weekend. Her nipples tightened at the fountain of desire rising in her. Her eyes caressed the firm lines of his arms, and warmed as they settled on his chest. The pecs were _made_ to be stroked, licked, nipped, nibbled and kissed. Her palms sweated at his tight abdominals. As for his cock. . .

She swallowed audibly.

Jaime stroked himself. “Hurry,” he whispered.

“Before we start,” she said, tucking her fingers in the waistband of her pants. “I told Margaery we’re going to the beach.”

Jaime stopped touching himself. “What?”

She laughed and went to him, her breasts jiggling slightly with every step. They were still small, but breastfeeding left them plump. She put her hands on his shoulders.

“You know, the little white lie we told everyone about this weekend. So, this morning, she took me for a procedure.”

 _“What procedure?”_ Jaime practically shouted, his eyes widening at her tits. She quickly kissed him on the mouth. She burst out laughing as he palmed the mounds, squeezing experimentally and looking at her doubtfully.

“Jaime! I didn’t do anything.”

“Imiss when they used to be really small,” he murmured, pinching her nipples playfully to draw a soft cry from her. “I do like there’s more to squeeze now. Come here.”

He sat on the bed and pulled her down his lap. Brienne watched as he kissed her breasts, licked her nipples. His hands stroked her back, her face, pushing at her neck a little so she would arch and thrust her tits closer to his mouth. As the room filled with his wet, lewd suckles, she gasped, “It’s nothing to be alarmed about. Jaime. I think you should feel first the result of that procedure before seeing it.”

“You can feel me touching you like this? Kissing you?” He asked against her tits before raising his head at her. “There might be some sensation lost—”

“Ugh, you’re not listening! I said I did nothing to them!” She grunted impatiently.

“Well,” he pouted. “I wanted to be sure.”

She frowned. “Do you think I’m the sort to go to the doctor and demand for cantaloupe tits?”

He laughed. “Sorry. Damn, sweetheart. Your tits are now decent-sized apples. Very, very nice and possibly the sexiest apples.” He resumed kissing them. She giggled and cradled her head to her tits again, closing her eyes as he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her.

“Thank you. I think. Jaimeee. . . .” she whined, this time dragging his head away from a nipple and looking at him sternly.

He pretended to gulp. “I’m listening, wench.”

She rolled her eyes then got off his lap to get back on her feet. Jaime began to protest when she took his hand and, staring right in his eyes, pulled it down inside her pants.

Surprise then delight lit up his face upon discovering what the smoothness of her bare flesh meant. It was immeasurably adorable, Brienne thought, giggling and turning pink at the leering grin that spread slowly across his face. She watched him, biting her lip as he touched her, fingers coasting over the warm skin, delving briefly between folds to flick at her stiff clit. Sweat broke out from her pores as his touch firmed.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured with a smirk, pushing her pants down with the other hand. Perhaps more eagerly than she should have, she helped. His hand remained on her pussy as her pants fell. Then he released her, sitting back on his elbows on the bed, spreading his legs and rubbing his cock. His eyes rested on the pale triangle of flesh covered only in freckles now.

“You got a wax, wench?” He rasped.

She nodded. “You like?”

He sighed. “Irritation and ingrown hair aside, it’s fucking sexy. Come here.”

Before she could move, he was suddenly onto her, a hand slipping between her wet thighs and his arm going around her waist. She shrieked, toppling on him before he threw her down on the bed. Shaking with laughter, she spread her legs as he settled between them. A long moan slipped from her throat as he tongued the sweat off her stomach, her navel, before his blond head pressed on her pussy.

“Yes. . .” She hissed, surrendering to the sweet devastation he promised.

“It’s so fucking soft,” he marveled between brushing of his lips on her labia. He kissed her deeply on the slit, a tongue parting it slightly open for a taste of her secret flavor. “Yum.”

“I did it for you,” she moaned as his tongue traveled up and down her parted slit. “I figured tonight you won’t cede your turn.”

“Unh-unh, sweetheart.” His lips wrapped around her clit, causing her to squeal and arch. Emerald eyes flashed at her. “You were pretty greedy last night, if I’m not mistaken.”

She blushed and pressed his head down on her pussy again. Half the night she kept her mouth around Jaime’s cock. Her jaw and throat were still a little sore, but she had loved every second of it. Her ass was thankful too.

She listened to him thumbing her open, blushing deeper at the sound of her pussy’s squelch. Watched him bury his face against her pussy, a firm tongue fucking her with delicious relentlessness. He groaned at her wonderful smell, at how sweet she was, especially down here. Even when she screamed it was getting too much, he kept sucking her clit, his fingers fucking her roughly.

She was too limp from her orgasm to protest when he flipped her on her stomach and raised her hips roughly. “Jaime,” she panted, groaning as his tongue circled her rosette. Her fingers clenched at the sheets, bracing herself for the sharp tickling sensation.

“Fuck, Brienne. They even got rid of your hair here.”

“I don’t,” she protested, “have hair there!”

“You do. Had. I miss it already. But I’m loving this.” And she wailed as his tongue entered her. She pawed at the sheets desperately, channeling her body’s resistance to this kiss. For the second time in mere minutes, she was once again screaming her release.

Then she found herself on her back again. This time, she was hardly moving, except to spread her arms and legs to hold Jaime as his cock fucked her at last. _His cock._ As a mother she would always be thankful for the daughter he gave her. As a woman and wife, she would always thank the Seven for the gift of his hard, hard cock. She clung to him, nails scratching at his sweat-slick back because she feared that he will slip away from her. They stared in each other’s eyes, their rough pants bathing each other’s faces and lips, spit mixing. Her chest was tight from tension and love, a softness in her eyes as she gazed at him as he slid in and out of her. Her ankles crossed at his back, the heel of her foot pushing hard against his tailbone.

Wrung out, she could only grunt through her third orgasm while Jaime shouted her name, fucking her so hard that the bedframe began to squeak and whine. Realizing what could happen, she flung an arm toward the headboard in a futile attempt to save their bed.

“Jaime—”

“Fuck!” he growled, at last pouring into her. She stiffened, raising her hips, thinking that relieving the bed of some of their combined weight might save it. She smiled wearily, loving the familiar, warm flood of his semen filling her. Jaime gasped, the veins in his neck straining against the flesh before slumping hard on her chest.

“Wait—” she muttered, remembering, but it was too late.

There was a crack and then a sharp dip. They cried out as the mattress fell, dipping at an angle that brought their heads down and their legs up. They stared at each other then burst out laughing.

“What a birthday,” Jaime exclaimed, shaking against her body. Still laughing, he awkwardly rolled off her. His eyes shone as he watched her laugh and turn pink.

“Gods, I hope we didn’t wake up Noelle,” she said, trying to calm down.

As their laughter subsided, they turned to each other. Brienne caressed the damp hair on his chest while Jaime watched her.

“It’s a good thing we have the entire day tomorrow to shop for a new bed,” he whispered.

“How exciting. The Lannisters at Bed, Bath and Beyond,” she said, giving him a small smile. He kissed her on the forehead.

It was too much effort to remove the mattress from the broken frame, and they were still very loose-limbed from the fucking. So, they put their pajamas back on, got the pillow and blankets and settled for the night in their convertible sofa. There was only enough space for their long, broad forms, immediately rectified by Jaime throwing his arm around her waist and holding her tightly.

“Snug as a bug,” Brienne remarked happily. “Just like camping.”

“Which I pray you’ll never take me to. I like my creature comforts,” Jaime said, kissing her behind the ear.

“Oh, I knew before marrying you that as dirty as your mouth is, you’d die without your luxuries.” She teased him.

“One of the things you love about me, sweetheart.”

“I do,” she admitted. She would turn to him if there was space. She just held his hand to her heart. “I love you very much, Jaime.”

“Fuck, do you know that’s my favorite thing to hear from you? Like, the first favorite.”

“A favorite is one thing. There can’t be a second or a third.”

“But I do.”

She said drily, “Do I want to hear this?”

“Actually, ‘I love you,’ and ‘Fuck me’ are both number one.”

“Uh-huh. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“The second thing is. . .”

“Boy, I’d love to hear this.”

He nuzzled her ear. “I’m not wearing panties, Jaime,” he said in a high, falsetto voice.

“What! I don’t sound like that!”

“I’m not wearing panties, Jaime,” he repeated in that voice, holding her tightly and kissing her as she slapped at his hand in protest. Their legs tangled under the sheets, but he managed to drag her bottoms down, then his. She yelped as his hard cock poked at her butt.

“I don’t like wearing panties. Fuck me. Keep your cock inside. Yes, yes, yes—”

He suddenly laughed as she managed to climb on top of him and press him down using her superior weight. He looked up at her, amazement and adoration on his face. It took her breath away, to be looked like this. Then she inhaled, and air whooshed back in her lungs. She took his cock, raised her hips, then sank fully down around him. They groaned together. She was still wet.

“I love you, Brienne.” He said, smiling as she scowled at him before the brightness in her eyes betrayed her. His hands wrapped around her hips, guiding her movements. “I didn’t just want to fuck you that first night. I was already in love. I’ve never seen anyone like you before. And then you spoke and sounded so fucking sexy. You’re not just the love of my life, sweetheart. You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. I thought I was never going to see you again, to tell you the truth.”

“You—you’ve never told me this before,” she said, stunned, stopping.

“Now, you know,” he kissed her hand. “I thought I only had your panties from that night to remember you. Now, don’t stop. Keep fucking me.”

She laughed. Trust Jaime to say something so romantic and follow it up with something dirty in the next breath. She caressed his cheek and bent to kiss him.

Primed from their playful tussle and buoyed by confession, they slammed quickly into their release. Brienne’s mouth covered Jaime’s, their kisses swallowing each other’s cries lest they wake up their daughter.  

“Since we’re confessing,” she thought to say a short while later, back to lying down next to him. Their pajama bottoms were still on the floor and his cock was nestled between her thighs. “You should know that no one has fucked me like you had that night, Jaime. You’re the only one to look at me. Really look at me. You—you showed me for the first time how it felt to be desired.”

“How can I not? Why’d you think I fucked you so hard your diaphragm got stuck?”

“Ha. I knew it. You did it on purpose!”

“I wanted you too exhausted to leave,” he explained.

“I think, even if you asked me to stay, I probably would not have believed you,” she admitted. “I couldn’t believe there was someone like you, Jaime. And then. . .then you were there. Back in my life. In a way that I hope Noelle will never find out because I’ll never be able to look at our daughter in the eye again.” She thought, blushing. They could laugh about it now, but she’d die if Noelle found out.

“Our secret, sweetheart,” he promised, hugging her from behind.  

Before she drifted off to sleep, she said, “One last thing, Dr. Lannister.”

“Yes, my lady Brienne?”

She kissed him. “Each day with you is a gift.”

 

*****  
Exactly nine months and two days later, Jaime and Brienne were blessed with twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who read, left kudos, comments, and liked/shared my Tumblr posts about my latest contribution to what I hope is another hot and absofuckinglutely dirty Jaime and Brienne fanfiction. 
> 
> Hope to see your filthy minds in upcoming fanfics--either by me or better yet, YOURS! 
> 
> ****  
> I didn't specify the sex of Jaime and Brienne's twins. I leave it up to you! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think? :-) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> ____  
> I need a break from angst. Hence, a story that explores the most mortifying thing that could happen after awesome sex with a stranger!


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